The One That Got Away
by kerry911
Summary: On the eve of his wedding to Cho, Harry is made aware of Hermione’s enduring love for him.
1. Things Would Have Been Too Intense

Chapter 1: Things Would Have Been Too Intense  
  
  
  
Ron raised his glass in the air and looked around, making sure all eyes were on him. "To my dear friend Harry, may you have a great life with your new bride. And may you enjoy lots and lots of sex."   
  
Hermione nudged him in the ribs. "Ron, that's really inappropriate."   
  
He looked down at her. "Fine, I wish lots and lots of sex upon myself."   
  
They each brought their glass to their lips. Ron gulped his beer in a hurried fashion, making loud noises as he swallowed. Everyone watched as he tried to finish his drink in as few gulps as possible. He was soon drenched as some of the ale poured down the front of his shirt.   
  
The men at the table began to clap as he finished the contents of the glass. Dean shook his head. "That doesn't count. You spilt most of it on your shirt. You still don't beat my record."   
  
Ron eyed him from the other end of the table. "Oh, bullshit. I beat--" He paused. He slowly opened his mouth, letting out a loud belch.   
  
Hermione narrowed her eyebrows as she glared at him. "That is nasty. You're a pig."   
  
"Well, you're the one who wanted to join us tonight. Sorry if my manly behavior offends you."  
  
Hermione sat back in her chair, rethinking why she agreed to join the gang on Harry's stag night. She looked around the table at the boys, watching as they participated in other 'manly' activities.   
  
"Hey Neville, pull my finger," she heard Justin say. She scrunched her face at the sight of the two boys and turned away.   
  
Out of the corner of her eye she could see him staring at her. She looked at him. Although the gathering was in his honor, he had remained quiet the whole evening. His hand clutched his drink, which was still filled to the brim. "Harry, this is a celebration. So why aren't you drinking?"  
  
"Yeah Harry, you better drink it fast or I will," said Ron.   
  
Harry pushed the glass away. "I have other plans tonight, so I really can't afford to be pissed."   
  
Justin reached for the bowl of nuts in the middle of the table. In between bites, he asked, "Other plans? If you're going to The Witches' Brew, I would like to go with you."   
  
Hermione glanced at him. "What's The Witches' Brew?"   
  
"It's a strip club," said Ron.   
  
She made a face. "Why did I even ask?"   
  
Ron put his arm around her. "You are more that welcome to tag along. It's become very fashionable for women to go to these places. And who knows? After a few drinks, you might even want to dance a bit for us."   
  
She brushed his arm off her shoulder. "Get away from me."   
  
"Ron leave her alone," said Harry. "And no I'm not going to that...gentleman's club. I'm going somewhere else."   
  
Ron's eyes opened wide as he began to stare at Harry. "I wouldn't pass up a great opportunity like this if I were you. This will be your last chance to go there. Because once you get married, Cho will never let you out of her sight."   
  
He scooted his chair closer to Harry. "Don't you want to go and look at beautiful women?"   
  
"You mean surgically enhanced women?" scoffed Hermione.   
  
"Ignore her. Harry I know that Cho has a great body now, but once you pump her full of your kids-"   
  
"That's disgusting," exclaimed Hermione.   
  
"Once she's had a couple of your rug rats, she's not gonna be hot anymore. She's gonna blow up like a beached whale. So you might as well get an eyeful of beautiful women now."   
  
Harry began to laugh as he put his hand on Ron's face and pushed him away. "You're too much, you know that?"   
  
"Harry would love his wife regardless of what she looked like," stated Hermione. "He's a caring guy and is not superficial like you."   
  
"What ever," said Ron. He looked around the table at the other men. "I say we all go tonight. If Harry won't join us, we'll get lap dances in his honor."   
  
He watched as Justin, Dean and Seamus all nodded their heads in agreement. "Neville, what about you?"   
  
"I don't know, I've never felt comfortable in those places."   
  
Ron sighed loudly. "Oh come on."   
  
As the other boys tried to convince Neville to join them, Harry and Hermione had their own conversation. "That was really nice what you said about me," he said.   
  
"I was only telling the truth." She reached over and rested her fingers on his hand. He soon felt her fingernails gently tracing his skin.   
  
Looking at her face, he saw a twinkle of an emotion hidden in her brown eyes, a look he had seen before. He quickly pulled his arm away. He grabbed his glass and brought it to his lips. He didn't take a drink; he just wanted something to divert his attention away from her eyes.   
  
Unable to convince Neville to accompany them, Ron stood up and began searching around the room. The restaurant was packed that Friday night as customers converged on every available table. "Where the hell is that beer wench?"   
  
"The beer what?" asked Hermione.   
  
"I'm sorry your highness. I mean beer person." He quickly turned around when he spotted his target. "Miss, we need a few more jugs of that delicious ale!"   
  
The young blonde waitress walked up to him and smiled. "Would there be anything else you'd like, Mr. Weasley?"   
  
"Yes...hey, you know who I am?"   
  
"Of course. We were all reading about you joining the Cannons. And might I add that you're a terrific chaser. I watched you play at Hogwarts all the time."   
  
"Can I have a lemonade?" asked Hermione.   
  
Ron continued staring at the girl. "You attended Hogwarts?"   
  
"Yeah. I was in Hufflepuff. I was a year ahead of you."  
  
"Did I ever mention that I love Hufflepuff girls? They are the best sorts of women, so sweet, so easily influenced."   
  
"Excuse me," said Hermione. "I would like..." She eyed Ron and the girl; they were obviously too enthralled in each other to notice her. She got up from her seat and walked to the bar, elbowing Ron in the process.   
  
Ron glared at her as she walked by. "Now those Gryffindor girls, they are another story. They are so stubborn and opinionated, always in your face about something."   
  
Harry chuckled to himself, thinking of how Hermione fit that characterization perfectly. He recalled how she tried to convince him that becoming seeker for the Cannons was the best career opportunity for him. She even went so far as to march into the boys' dorm to plead with him.   
  
He smiled as he thought of how boxer clad Neville panicked when he saw her, placing a magazine over his groin to cover his modesty. However, the smile slowly faded when he recalled how upset Cho was to hear news (probably from Parvati, he thought) of Hermione sitting on his bed. He and Cho had a very heated conversation that weekend when they met up in Hogsmeade.   
  
He watched as Hermione returned to the table, walking around the maze of tables and customers with such authority.   
  
"Well, I have to get going," said the fair-haired waitress. "I've got a lot of customers. Is there anything else you'd like?"   
  
Ron looked her up and down once more. "Maybe we can go out on a date."   
  
"I can't believe this," said Hermione, setting her drink on the table. "We're here to celebrate Harry's happy day and you're hitting on women?"   
  
Ron leaned close to her ear and whispered, "Shut up, I'm working here." He returned his attention to the blonde. "Okay darling, see you later." He winked at her and watched as she walked down the row of tables, her hips swiveling with every step.   
  
"Did you see that?" he asked everyone once he was seated. "She knew who I was. And she didn't say anything about Harry." He stuck out his tongue at his friend.   
  
He began to stoke his chin and the peach fuzz beard that was developing there. "Hufflepuff, huh? I wonder if I ever dated her? I specialized in Hufflepuffs you know."   
  
"Whom didn't you specialize in?" asked Hermione.   
  
"I'm talking here. I loved Hufflepuffs, but Harry preferred Ravenclaws. Or should I say one Ravenclaw in particular."   
  
"I can't believe you're getting married," said Hermione. "You're way too young." The men at the table all stopped talking to one another and looked over at her. "What?"   
  
Neville eyed her in disbelief. "I expected you to be the one cooing about the wedding."   
  
"Why? Because I'm a girl?"   
  
"Exactly," answered Ron. "They always love that stuff. Always saying how they can't wait to get married. I mean don't you want to make an honest man out of Krum?"   
  
"My relationship with Krum is perfect the way it is." She gazed over at Harry. "I think that you're too young to get married. You haven't lived your life yet."   
  
"I've lived plenty," Harry muttered. "What with all the people who've tried to kill me and all the monsters I've faced, I've lived enough to last two life times."   
  
"But you need to travel, meet new people. How do you know Cho is your true love if you don't explore your options?" She and Harry exchanged a look. "This just seems a bit rushed if you ask me."   
  
"But no one asked you," said Ron.   
  
She flashed the red-headed boy an annoyed look. "Like I was saying, you should really explore your career as professional Quidditch player before you settle down. We just graduated a couple of months ago, for heaven's sake. Take me for example, I'm not going to settle down until I establish a teaching career."   
  
"Well, you can start by teaching Krum how to speak English," blurted Ron. "Can't understand a damn thing he says."   
  
"Shut up."   
  
Harry reached across the table and grabbed Hermione's hand. "Defense Against the Dark Arts, huh?"   
  
"Yes."   
  
"I hope you'll do a lot better than the professors we had in the past," said Dean. "Remember the guy we had last year? Where the hell did they find him?"   
  
"He was the worst," said Ron. "But my personal favorite was Fleur."   
  
Hermione snorted loudly. "That's because you spent the whole class session flirting with her."   
  
Ron leaned over to the other guys. "Did I mention that Gryffindor girls are mighty jealous?"   
  
Harry shook his head. "How the two of you ever got together is beyond me. You guys did nothing but fight the whole time."   
  
Ron looked over at Hermione. "I think we make better friends than anything else."   
  
Hermione nodded in agreement. "Yes, and plus I'm really happy with Krum."   
  
Ron began to snicker.   
  
"Anyway, speaking of bad Defense teachers," began Harry, "Lockhart sent me and Cho a wedding gift and do you know what it was?"   
  
"A big picture of himself," said Ron.   
  
"Yes, how did you know?"   
  
"Lucky guess."   
  
Harry began to smile as he thought of the other gifts they received. "We got a nice present from Dumbledore."   
  
"How is the old man?" asked Justin.   
  
"He's fine. Says he can't wait to come to the wedding."   
  
Justin put his elbows on the table and pouted. "Can't believe he resigned. No offense, Lupin is a great man, but he's no Dumbledore."   
  
"Yeah," said Ron. "But I think he'll keep all the new students in line. If they misbehave, he could always threaten to eat them."   
  
Hermione looked at him as he began to laugh. "That's not funny."   
  
"Yes, it is."   
  
Harry smiled as he watched his friends arguing, reminding him of all their years at Hogwarts. He leaned forward so that only they could hear what he was saying. "It's a bit refreshing to see you guys bickering. I'm gonna miss it. We won't have moments like these anymore."   
  
A puzzled look spread on Hermione's face. "What are you talking about? You and Ron will see each other everyday when the Quidditch season starts."   
  
"But the three of us won't be together like this. You'll be away teaching."   
  
She looked down at her hands. "Perhaps us being apart is a good thing. I don't think Cho likes me."   
  
"What? Of course she likes you."   
  
"I don't know. I just get some pretty funny vibes from her sometimes. Like, she didn't even invite me to her wedding shower."   
  
"That's because she barely knows you. You're more my friend than you are hers."   
  
"I guess." Her eyes met Harry's gaze and then fluttered away. "Do you think it's a good idea what you're doing?"   
  
"What?"   
  
"Making me your best man. Or is it best woman?"   
  
"You and Ron are my two best friends. Why wouldn't I choose the both of you to stand near me?"   
  
"It just feels weird. People will start talking."   
  
Dean loudly cleared his throat, reminding them that they were not alone at the table. "Hermione, people think it's sweet that you'll be by Harry's side. By the way Harry, that was a nice choice you made there with Cho. She's a really nice girl."  
  
"'She's a really nice girl,'" said Ron in a mocking voice. "My, my Dean, you didn't look too pleased when you said that. I think you were even clenching your teeth."   
  
"No I wasn't."   
  
"Yes you were you little liar. You're still mad because Cho picked Harry over you."   
  
Harry raised his eyebrows. "You liked Cho?"   
  
Dean laughed nervously as six pairs of eyes began to stare at him. "Ron was just kidding. I think he's been chugging down too much of that ale."   
  
"No, I haven't," said Ron. "I'm perfectly fine. Anyway, he told me how he still wasn't over her when you guys announced your engagement."   
  
Harry continued to stare at Dean, who did his best to avoid his eyes.   
  
Sensing that there was some tension between the group, Seamus said, "Let's get to the good stuff. Where are you guys going for your honeymoon?"   
  
"Barbados," said Harry.   
  
"How long will you two be away?"   
  
"A few weeks."   
  
"Make sure you bring lots of protection," chirped Ron.   
  
"Ron!" shouted Hermione.   
  
"What? I mean raincoats and such. I've heard Barbados can get quite rainy this time of year. Where's you mind Hermione?"   
  
Neville's face became tense as he looked at Harry, a hint of fright looming in his expression. "Someone told me you invited Snape to the wedding. Please tell me that's a lie."   
  
"I did invite him," Harry said slowly.  
  
"Harry," Neville whimpered.   
  
"I couldn't exclude him; he endangered his own life by helping me defeat Voldemort." He looked around at the other faces, which were clearly not impressed by Snape's act of bravery. "He probably won't even show up."   
  
"Don't worry Neville." Ron hiccupped. "If he tries anything, I'll take care of him for you."   
  
Hermione rolled her eyes. "What are you gonna do? Throw up on him?" She reached over and grabbed Harry's arm. "Everything will be fine. No one will cause any trouble."   
  
As the night carried on, Justin and the other guys decided to play a game of pool, leaving Ron, Hermione and Harry alone at the table. Ron continued to amuse himself by drinking.  
  
Hermione watched Harry as he played with the gold ring on his left hand, a bright smile on his face. She lowered her head and stared at the floor.   
  
Harry looked up and regarded her. "Why are you looking sad?"  
  
"It's nothing."  
  
Ron put his hand over his mouth and began to laugh.   
  
"What's so funny?" Harry asked.  
  
"I can't say." He paused. "Okay, if you insist. Hermione has a bit of a crush on you."   
  
Hermione jerked upright in her chair and glared at him.   
  
"It's true." He moved away as Hermione swung her hand towards his head. "When we were dating, she would always say how she made the mistake of going out with the wrong friend."   
  
Harry sat still and stared at both of them. His eyes roamed from Ron's laughing face to Hermione's crimson cheeks and back again. He looked away and then calmly got to his feet. "I have to go to the men's room."   
  
"Ow, stop hitting me!" screamed Ron.   
  
She brought her fist down on his shoulder once more. "Why did you have to say something like that? Do you know how embarrassing that was?"   
  
"He doesn't believe me. I'm drunk remember."   
  
She rested her elbows on the table and covered her face in her palms.   
  
"Hey Ron! Come over here," shouted Justin. "I want you to be on my team because Neville sucks."   
  
"No," said Dean. "Ron can't play. He'll probably pass out on the table."   
  
Ron shakily got to his feet. "I am capable of beating all of you guys." He sauntered over to the boys, knocking into other patrons on the way over.   
  
Harry returned to his seat. "Where'd Ron go?"   
  
"Over there to cause trouble."   
  
"He's a bit out of it tonight. I hope he'll be all right for tomorrow." He scratched his head and watched as Ron tried to climb on the pool table. "I hope I made the right decision in having him hold the rings. Cho will kill me if he loses them."   
  
"Cho's ring is very beautiful. It's quite impressive. I bet it cost a fortune."   
  
"I used the advance the Cannons gave me to buy it. But it sure did cost a lot. It's a good thing they're paying me a big salary because this wedding is costing me an arm and a leg." He shook his head. "Why she insisted on having nine bridesmaids is beyond me."   
  
He looked over at the pool table once more. "What the hell is he doing now?" Ron was on top of the table doing a dance. "I hope he doesn't do that at the reception. Oh, that reminds me. The store dropped off your gown at my house. I don't know why. I told them to bring it to your place."   
  
He started to laugh. "Cho was a little jealous when she saw how lovely it looked. She thought you would try to upstage her at her own wedding...what's wrong?"   
  
When she remained quiet, he reached across the table and stroked her hand. "Come on Herm, what is it? You usually never go this long without stating your opinion on something."   
  
"Do you love her?"   
  
"Of course I do. That's why we're getting married. You're not going to go into your speech about me being too young. Yes, I know I'm only 18, but it feels so--"   
  
"Do you ever think about us?"   
  
"You and Ron? All the time. I love you guys."   
  
"No. Me and you." She watched as the calm demeanor on his face slowly diminished. "I still remember that night in the astronomy tower."   
  
"That was a long time ago, over two years."   
  
"That's not such a long time. I remember it like it was yesterday." She put her finger on her temple. "Why did we even go in there in the first place?"   
  
"Because it was too noisy in the common room." His tone of voice was bland.   
  
"Oh yeah. Everyone was all excited because we won the Quidditch Cup. Ron was being obnoxious, trying to do back flips all over the place."   
  
Harry managed a smile. "He kept knocking into people, kicked Dean right in the eye."   
  
"I can still remember us lying side by side and staring up at the stars. And then..." She trailed off.   
  
She glanced over at him. He look at her for a moment and then directed his gaze elsewhere, anywhere but her face. "That's when you said you had feelings for me," she began. "And we...made love."   
  
Harry's heartbeat quickened as he continued to avoid her eyes. His stare wandered to the other boys; their pool game was starting to look appealing. "We were drunk that night. We had about 12 butterbeers."   
  
"Butterbeers only affect house-elves."  
  
"We also had some Ogden's Old Firewhisky."  
  
"About half a cup each. If we were drunk, how come we can recall every detail? " She turned around and pointed at Ron. "He's drunk. When he wakes up in the morning, he won't remember a thing. We were sober."   
  
He crossed his arms tightly against his chest. "I thought we decided not to discuss what happened that night?"   
  
"We never discussed anything. We both just pretended it never happened."   
  
"Then why are you bringing it up now?"   
  
"I just want to know if you meant what you said to me that night."   
  
"I don't know."   
  
"Of course you know."   
  
"Don't read too much into what happened that night. There was just so much running through my head at the time. I was excited about beating Slytherin, it was a beautiful night out and plus I had a lot to drink. I just lost myself for a minute."   
  
"Don't you dare say that Harry James Potter. You were not out of it that night. You were very much present with me; I felt it when you began to make love to me. Your caresses were not those of an intoxicated man. You even said you love me when you..finished."   
  
Harry rubbed his neck and moved around in his chair. The way Hermione stared at him gave him the indication that she expected an answer from him. "Yes, I meant every word of it."   
  
"Then why didn't you ever pursue those feelings after that night?"   
  
"I don't know."   
  
"I'm getting a little sick of your three word answers."   
  
He took a deep breath. "I was a bit scared."   
  
"Scared of what?"   
  
"My feelings for you, everything. The whole situation was awkward and I didn't quite know how to react around you." He leaned forward on his elbows and lowered his voice into a whisper. "That was um...my first time."   
  
He slumped down in his chair and dared to look into her searching eyes. "I wanted to pursue something more with you and I meant to do it too, but things never happened the way I planned them. That summer, I wanted to talk to you about it at the Burrow, but it seems like we were never alone. And when the school year started, Cho asked me out."   
  
"But why didn't you tell her you were interested in someone else?"   
  
"I don't..I have no idea. I guess I wanted something to distract me from thinking about you."   
  
"You just went out with her to forget about me?"   
  
"At first. But then I fell for her. When I think about it, it's a good thing that Cho asked me out when she did because a relationship between you and me wouldn't have worked."   
  
"Yes it would. You and I are best friends, we've experienced a lot together. We lost our virginity to one another."   
  
"But we'd end up getting in arguments all the time. Things between us would be too intense."   
  
"But wouldn't that be a good thing? Not the arguing, the intensity. Aren't you supposed to have intense feelings about the one you love?" Her eyes roamed his face in a hard stare. "So, you'd rather have a sedate relationship with Cho, than an intense one with me?"   
  
"Don't say that. Cho and I have a wonderful relationship."   
  
"But don't you feel like we missed out on a great opportunity?"   
  
"Herm, I don't want to go there anymore. I'm getting married tomorrow. This is the wrong time to be having this conversation."   
  
"Do you want to end up like Dean, always thinking about what could have been?"   
  
"But I'm not pining over anyone."   
  
"Harry, I'm not blind. I see the passion in your eyes when we're together. I think Cho senses it too, that's why she doesn't like us hanging out together."   
  
Harry laughed nervously. "Think about it. If Krum had a female friend he was really close to, wouldn't you get jealous too?"   
  
He got up and took the seat next to her. His arm came to rest on her shoulder and pulled her close. "I'm glad we never dated. If we broke up, we would never want to be around each other."   
  
"Ron and I are still friends."   
  
"No offense, but I wouldn't call your three week fling with Ron a relationship." The hand on her shoulder slid up to her head and his fingers playfully wrapped around her thick strands of hair. "I'm not going to lie and say I've never thought about us. I used to lie in my bed and imagine what it would be like if we were to get married."   
  
He looked down at her and saw a smile creek onto her face. "Yes, our relationship would have been passionate and great, but that's in the past. My present and future is with Cho."   
  
There was a moment of silence between them, before Harry asked, "Wouldn't Krum be hurt to learn about you talking about the past? Aren't you madly in love with him?"   
  
"My relationship with Krum deteriorated months ago. We're simply friends now."   
  
"What happened?"   
  
"We both couldn't live a lie anymore. I think he realized that my heart really wasn't with him. And he just got sick of being the consolation prize."   
  
She looked up at him, catching his gaze. "Remember last weekend at your house? I felt something between us when you brushed up against me."   
  
"The house was crowded. There were a lot of people there. Who knew Cho had so many friends."   
  
"I know what I felt that night. There was more to it."   
  
He reached over and took her hand in his, giving her fingers a light squeeze. "You know I love you. But that love is strictly--"   
  
"Harry! We need your help," shouted Dean. "Ron passed out on the pool table and we can't lift his heavy bum."   
  
"I'll be right back," he said to Hermione.   
  
She turned and watched as he walked over to the other boys, whom were all tugging at Ron's limbs, trying to pull him to his feet.   
  
She began to eye him up and down. A smile spread on her face as she imagined how he looked when they first started school. He had grown so much taller over the years, even rivaling Ron in height. Although he was still thin, his six-foot frame was lean and muscular. Examining him so closely made her skin tingle.   
  
She got a glimpse of his eyes as he turned her way to look at Neville. Even at a distance those green eyes shined bright like emeralds. They were easier to see since he'd gotten rid of his glasses; probably Cho's idea, she thought.   
  
"He's not being true to himself," she said to herself.   
  
She remembered the times she had seen that look in his eyes, seen the way he observed her walking back from the bar. She took out a pen and piece of paper from her purse and scribbled: "If you ever want to explore what could have happened between us, you know where to find me."   
  
She stood up and placed the note in his coat pocket. She looked back at the boys.   
  
Ron was now on his feet, wobbling uncontrollably. Harry placed both arms around him, preventing him from falling over. "You better not vomit on me or I'll kill you. I know Cho won't come near me tonight if I smell like puke."   
  
"I thought the bride and groom weren't supposed to see each other the night before the wedding," said Neville.   
  
Harry smiled. "She's been staying at her parents' for the past couple of days and I miss her. So I'm gonna sneak over later tonight."   
  
Seamus nudged him. "You guys are gonna practice for your honeymoon?"   
  
"No. We'll probably just have a cuddle." He swatted his hand at the other boy, who began winking at him.   
  
Hermione observed him from the table. His hand was placed over his mouth, concealing his laughter as Seamus whispered into his ear. He looked over at her and waved. She held his gaze for a moment, exchanging a smile with him.  
  
He looks so happy, she thought. She looked down at her hands, the pen was still clutched between her fingers. She searched her purse for another piece of paper.   
  
Harry was positioning Ron on a nearby sofa, when she walked up to him. "I have to get going," she said. "It's getting late. Thanks for inviting me."   
  
She wrapped her arms around him and gave him a hug. As they embraced, Harry whispered, "Is everything cool between us?" He could feel her nodding her head against his shoulder. When they pulled apart, she headed for the door.   
  
"I'll see you tomorrow, okay?" he shouted.   
  
"Sure." She walked out the door.   
  
Justin walked up to him and tapped him on the shoulder. "You ready to leave? You have to get up early and prepare for you big day."   
  
Seamus walked by them. "Big day? I think he's too busy thinking about what's going to happen between him and Cho tonight."   
  
"We're not going to even do anything," pleaded Harry. "We just want to see each other before the mayhem of the wedding begins."   
  
"Sure," the other boys said in unison.   
  
Harry walked over to the table. As he grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair, a note fell out of one of its pockets.   
  
He unfolded the paper and read: "Harry, I have decided not to attend your wedding. I hope you understand that it will be too hard for me to watch. I also wanted to let you know that I love you. I wish you and Cho much happiness in the future. And if your children ever attend Hogwarts, I promise not to be too hard on them. All my love, Herm."   
  
"Oh, Hermione." He looked down at the note once more, letting his finger run across each word.   
  
"Harry, you coming?" asked Justin.   
  
"Yeah." He folded the letter and put it back in his pocket. 


	2. Can We Talk About This

Chapter 2: Can We Talk About This  
  
  
Harry grabbed Ron off the sofa and struggled to lift him up. With Ron's body leaning against him, his head bobbing listlessly on his neck, he opened the door of the restaurant and joined his friends who were engrossed in conversation on the sidewalk.  
  
"I don't understand why we have to walk there," complained Seamus. "Why can't we just apparate?"  
  
"The Witches' Brew won't let people apparate there," replied Dean. "Not since Justin apparated himself on some guy's lap."  
  
A look of amusement fell on Seamus' face, as his eyes darted at Justin. "Is that true?" Justin did not answer him, opting instead to look up at the sky. Seamus burst into laughter.  
  
Justin faced Dean, glaring at him. "Why did you have to tell everyone?"   
  
"Shut up," said Dean. He took a step back before Justin would hit him on the arm. "You should have seen that bloke's face when Justin was on top of him. I feel sorry for him though. One minute he's watching a beautiful woman shake her body around and the next minute he's looking at Justin's ugly mug."   
  
"It's not funny. I wound up straddling the guy and I could feel his...you know what against my pelvis. It was so disgusting."   
  
Seamus stopped laughing as a wave of shock came over him. "You could feel the guy's erection? What did you do?"   
  
"What do you think I did?"   
  
"You ground yourself into his lap?"   
  
"No! I got off him as fast as I could." Justin scrunched his face in disgust. "You know what the worst part of it was? When I got home, there was a stain on the front of my pants, from the other guy."   
  
Seamus' mouth flew wide open. "How could he get a stain on you unless his willy was...oh my God. People can expose themselves in the club?"   
  
Justin furrowed his eyebrows. "Haven't you ever been to a strip club? People do a lot worse than expose themselves. Some guys pleasure themselves when the girl's dancing in front of them. That's why the club keeps a large stack of tissues by the side of the stage, so the girls can clean themselves off.  
  
"You had some guy ejaculate on you?"   
  
"I didn't say he ejaculated on me. I just said there was a stain on my pants. I don't know what that stuff was, it could have been anything." He grimaced when he snuck a glimpse of Seamus' amused face. "Harry, you were there. Tell him that the guy did not ejaculate on me."   
  
Harry shook his head. "I don't know what went on. I wasn't watching you or that guy."   
  
Dean's eyes ran up and down the green-eyed man's body. "Of course you weren't watching. You were too busy looking down at your watch because you had to run home to the little lady."   
  
"Yeah, I remember," said Justin. "You didn't appear to be having a good time that night. You wouldn't even let any of the girls come near you."   
  
"How would you know what I was doing?" snapped Harry. "You were too busy giving that man a lap dance."   
  
The group erupted in laughter.   
  
Justin crossed his arms against his chest. "I remember enough to know you kept talking about how Cho was going to kill you if you got back late." He put his finger to his temple. "And as I recall, that was the last time you ever went back there with us."   
  
He poked Dean in the ribs with his elbow. "I bet you that's the reason he's not going with us tonight," he said loud enough for everyone to hear. "She probably forbade him."   
  
Dean nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I think you're right."   
  
They watched as Harry shifted on his feet. "Harry," chanted Justin. "We're waiting."   
  
Dean moved towards Justin and whispered into his ear. When they pulled apart, both men gazed at Harry before looking at each other once more. Justin put his hand over his mouth and turned around so no one could see his face.   
  
Harry observed the two men in silence. The expression on his face changed from slight annoyance to embarrassment as he began to stare at the ground. He looked up for a moment and glanced at Seamus, as if begging him to change the subject, which he obliged.   
  
"I still say that Harry's the luckiest one here," Seamus began. "Even though we get to see naked girls, he'll be able to go all the way with one. I'll end up going home all frustrated, while he'll be able to get a release. Lucky bastard."   
  
The color in Harry's cheeks began to darken as he glared at Seamus.   
  
Seamus looked back at him. "Why are you so embarrassed? If I were you, I'd shout it from the rooftops."   
  
Harry cleared his throat. "I won't be shouting anything tonight because I'm not going over there."   
  
"Why not?"   
  
"I have to take Ron home."   
  
He looked at the redhead's appearance; he was in bad shape. With his free hand, he smacked his friend on the cheek, trying to awaken him. He watched as Ron's eyes fluttered halfway opened then closed. He abruptly lifted his head, mumbled a few incoherent words, and then fell back into his stupor.   
  
"I'm gonna stay with him," continued Harry. "Just to make sure he doesn't hurt himself. He has a habit of doing some strange things while he's intoxicated."   
  
"Just put a protection spell on him so he doesn't do any harm to himself," suggested Justin.   
  
Harry shook his head. "No, I think it would be better for me to be there. Plus, I want to make sure he gets to the wedding on time."   
  
"I can do it," interjected Neville. "I'll take him home. And I'll make sure he's dressed and ready for the wedding."   
  
"You don't have to do that."   
  
"It's no problem. I have nowhere else to go tonight. You should be able to see your future bride before tomorrow."   
  
Harry considered the offer. "Yeah okay, thanks." He leaned Ron against Neville's body. "You got him Nev?"   
  
"Yes."   
  
"Thanks again. I owe you big."   
  
"Don't worry about it."   
  
Harry took a step back as Neville and Ron disappeared with a popping noise.   
  
"This is so sad," said Seamus. "Our little party of sixteen is now reduced to four." He put his face in his hands and pretended to cry.   
  
"Well, I'm kinda glad certain people left," Dean declared. "The night is a lot better without  
their presence."   
  
Harry looked at him. "Who are you talking about?"   
  
"Hermione."   
  
Harry wrinkled his eyebrows and glared at him. "Why would you say something like that?"   
  
"I felt uncomfortable having her around. I couldn't do anything; I couldn't act like myself. I  
felt as though Professor McGonagall was with us." He looked around to the other guys. "Didn't you guys feel a bit constricted with Hermione around?"   
  
Justin and Seamus looked at one another. "I felt all right," said Seamus. "I've known her for awhile, so it was no big deal."   
  
Dean narrowed his eyes at him. "I know her too." He walked over to Harry and put his hand on his shoulder. "I know that you guys are close friends, but you shouldn't have invited her."  
  
Harry moved away from him. "I don't hear anyone else complaining. Besides, no one else seemed to be having a hard time relaxing. The twins were goofing off and acting like their old selves."   
  
"Then why did they leave early?"   
  
"They had to go back to the shop. You know they're having some Midnight Madness Sale,or whatever."   
  
Dean folded up his arms as if to declare defeat. But then he turned around again and gazed at Harry. "I know for a fact that you weren't having a good time with her around."   
  
Harry raised his eyebrows. "I wasn't?"   
  
"I noticed you weren't as relaxed as usual. You barely said anything all night."   
  
"Who could get a word in edgewise with Ron yapping his flap?"   
  
"No, that wasn't the problem. Before she got there, you were laughing and telling jokes, just being loud. But the moment she arrived, you tensed up, went all quiet."   
  
"I don't know what you're talking about."   
  
"You did look a little tense," said Justin. "But I don't think having her around was so bad. She was able to put up with all of our sexual jokes without much complaint."  
  
As Harry and Dean exchanged glares, Justin continued to talk. "I bet she's a real fox in the sack."  
  
Seamus eyeballed him. "What?"  
  
"Just think about it for a second. It's usually the conservative girls who are wildest in bed.  
They spend all their days following the rules, but once they get in bed, they just let loose.  
You know, once she lets her hair down and relaxes, I bet she's a real pistol."   
  
Dean curled his lip. "She looks like a lousy lay to me."  
  
"I have to agree," said Seamus. "I don't think that persona goes away once you take off her clothes. I think she's still the same way in bed." He began to laugh as a thought came to him. "She'll probably give you instructions on what you're doing right or wrong."  
  
"I can imagine that," said Dean.  
  
"Or else you'll be on top of her and she'll pull out a book and start reading it to you." He  
cleared his throat and adopted a shrill high-pitched voice that was cognizant of Hermione. "Now hold still while I read Hogwarts: A History to you."  
  
Harry's face began to harden as he watched the other men, wincing as Justin began to thrust his hips into the night air, demonstrating how he would penetrate Hermione. "She's not like that. She's a very passionate person."  
  
The three men all turned and looked at him. "Really?" asked Seamus. A gleeful look began to spread on his face. "And how would you know?"  
  
Harry rocked on his feet. "Just by seeing how passionately she's reacted to such issues as the plight of the house-elves."  
  
"Not those things again." Seamus sauntered over to Harry, resting his head on the other man's shoulder. "All this talk about sex has gotten me thinking. Do you think you'll get lucky tonight?"   
  
Harry pushed him away. "Will you stop all that?"   
  
"I think that's a yes. You shouldn't be so shy, share with us. What position will you guys use?"   
  
Harry remained quiet, and avoided his eyes.   
  
Seamus glanced at Dean. "What position do you reckon they'll use?"   
  
"How the fuck am I supposed to know?" Dean shoved his hands in his pockets and took a few steps away from the group.   
  
"What do you think Justin? Doggy?"   
  
Justin began to rub his chin. "I don't think so. She seems a little too conservative for that. I  
say missionary position, lights out."   
  
"Do you think she'll be giving him some oral?"  
  
Justin coughed loudly. "Are you kidding me? She's not going near his icky penis. I don't think she's ever done that to him, nor will she ever. She's too much of a lady to indulge in that practice. Isn't that right Harry?"  
  
Harry opened his mouth to say something, but then paused. "Shouldn't you guys get going?"   
  
Justin looked down at this watch. "Shit! They close in three hours. We have to go."   
  
Seamus glared at him. "Calm down. It's only a couple of blocks away. See you later Harry."   
  
As the three men began to walk down the street, Harry called out, "Hey! Did any of you see if Hermione apparated home already? She left her purse behind."   
  
Seamus turned around. "I don't think so because I saw her walking down that way."   
  
"Thanks Seamus." Harry turned around and began to walk down the direction Seamus had pointed. The noise of the other three men echoed into the night air until they rounded a corner, then it was silent. Soon the only sound surrounding him was that of his footsteps coming into contact with the pavement.   
  
The street suddenly got dark, as the light of the restaurant was no longer able to guide him  
on his way. His walk was stopped abruptly when he noticed that the street reached a dead end. "Now where do I go?" he muttered to himself. He looked to his right and left, before turning right.   
  
As he walked down the street, his eyes scanned down the long rows of shops and eateries for any signs of the raven-haired woman. His gaze came into contact with a moon faced man, who stood in his path.   
  
As Harry passed by, the man said, "Sir, would you like to come in and look at my merchandise?"   
  
Harry turned his head to look at the display in the store's window. He found himself gazing at an arrangement of multicolored dildos and whips. "No thanks."   
  
"No sir, wait. Don't you think your girl would like this dildo?" The man began pointing at a big, black synthetic penis.   
  
Harry's eyes widened as they moved up and down the length of the apparatus. "I don't think so."   
  
"But sir, this is our biggest seller." The man put a fat wrinkled hand on Harry's arm. "All the women love it. There are ridges towards the end, so your lady is assured complete pleasure each time."   
  
Harry shook his head and continued on his way. As he walked, he noticed other similar shops; each of their windows displaying objects of pleasure or torture, illuminated by the translucent glow of florescent lights. Seeing other men standing outside, he arranged his hair over his forehead.   
  
Having walked around the block several times, he stopped by a small bench and leaned against it. "She probably went home already."  
  
******************   
  
As Hermione crossed the street, her trench coat billowing behind her, she looked both ways, making sure that she had lost the man. From the corner of her eye, she could see a stranger standing in the mists, not moving; he was staring at her.   
  
She brushed her long wavy hair in front of her face and began to walk in the opposite direction. As she continued down the street, she heard the faint sound of his footsteps behind her. She quickened her pace. She snuck a nervous glimpse behind her to see if he was still following her, he was.   
  
"Hey," the man shouted.   
  
"Why don't you just leave me alone?" she replied to the darkened figure.   
  
"I need to talk to you for a minute."   
  
"I've already heard what you have to say. I already know that you're well endowed and that you want to give it to me hard. Now will you just let me be?"   
  
She rounded the corner in an attempt to get away from him. She could hear him as he ran after her. She stopped walking and turned around, awaiting the man as he came around the corner.   
  
"Listen asshole, if you don't leave me alone, I'm gonna turn you into a dung beetle!" She pulled out her wand and pointed it at him.   
  
"Hermione, it's me Harry."   
  
She pushed her hair out of her face and stared at him. "Harry?" She squinted into the darkness to make sure that it was truly he. "Hi," she said, her voice flat. She tried to force a smile onto her face, but it did not work.   
  
"You don't seem too pleased to see me."   
  
"I really wasn't expecting you to be here. How did you know where I was?"   
  
"Seamus said you'd gone in this direction. Thank God Neville volunteered to take Ron home, or I wouldn't have gotten the chance to come down here." His gaze traveled from her eyes to her hand. "Can you put your wand down for a second?"   
  
She looked down. Her wand was still tightly clutched in her right hand. "Sorry about that. You spooked me back there. You should have made your presence clear from the beginning. You don't know how close you came to being turned into an insect."   
  
"Have people been bothering you?"   
  
"Yeah. Some guy was following me around, harassing me." She put the wand back in the inside pocket of her coat. "What are you doing here?"   
  
"I should be asking you the same thing."   
  
"I'm going to a bookstore. There's book on famous witches who've battled dark magic. I was considering it for the class. I would like the students to get a female perspective on things."   
  
"What on earth made you want to walk there? You should have just apparated."   
  
"After a testosterone-filled night of belching and talks of the female anatomy, I really needed to get some fresh air."   
  
"You're not afraid of being by yourself out here?"   
  
"I'm not worried. I can handle a few catcalls and obscene gestures by drunken men. I can also deal with some freak following me around for half an hour, talking about how'd love to bend me over a chair."   
  
She shook her head and looked at him again. "Why do you guys even bother with stuff like that? Do you actually expect a girl to stop and talk to you after saying something like that to her?"   
  
Before Harry could answer, she continued. "Anyway, I can take care of myself. And as you could plainly see, I'm very quick with my wand. But, I'll feel better when I get to the bookstore; it's for witches only. I'll apparate home from there."   
  
Her eyes gazed over him, watching as he tried to flick his hair out of his eyes. "Did the other guys already leave for their night of debauchery?"   
  
"Yeah. I think they're already there by now. Justin is probably trying to jump on stage like he did last time."   
  
She raised her eyebrows. "So you've been there?"   
  
His eyes darted away from her stare and he lowered his head. "Only once."   
  
An amused smile spread on her face. "It's okay, I'm not judging you. I can understand that you have needs only a stripper can fulfill." Her smile began to fade, her face tightened. "How come you're not over at Cho's?" She bit her lip at how venomous the tone of her voice sounded.   
  
"I just wanted to--"   
  
"Get her some flowers? The shop's over there." She pointed her finger to the left, not caring how her voice came out this time.  
  
"That's not want I was going to say." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the letter she had written him.   
  
Her heart began to beat rapidly as she saw her handwriting on the paper. She had forgotten about it till now, her mind was previously occupied with thoughts of trying to elude a certain deranged stalker.   
  
"I wanted to ask you about this," he said. He furrowed his eyebrows and looked down at her. "What did you mean by it?"   
  
She did not respond to his question, but stared blankly at him.   
  
"Hermione."   
  
She took a deep breath and stiffened her body. "What in that letter don't you understand?" she asked in a calm voice.   
  
Harry opened his mouth, stammering for something to say. "I don't know where to start. First, why don't you want to come--"   
  
"I think the letter is pretty self explanatory." Her hand rose and rested on his shoulder. "You're a smart boy, you can figure out what I was saying. It's not like I wrote it in a poem that you had to decipher."   
  
"How can you be so matter of fact about this?"   
  
She laughed nervously. "Because everything is pretty much laid out. Look, I've had a really long night and I'm not in a talkative mood at the moment."  
  
"But I really want to discuss this with you," he said in a soft voice. He looked past her shoulder and down the street. "Why don't we go somewhere and have a cup of coffee? I think there might still be a few cafes open."   
  
She opened her mouth to say no, but he took her hand in his. As that warm familiar skin touched hers, she no longer wanted to hurry off.   
  
"There's a place over there," he went on. "And by the looks of it, there doesn't seem to be  
a lot of people inside. So, we'll have all the privacy we need."   
  
She glanced up at him, observing the crooked smile he bestowed on her. "All right. But only for a short time." She allowed him to lead her across the street.   
  
"I don't blame you for writing that letter. I can understand that you must have been feeling  
really low after our little conversation, feeling like I rejected you."   
  
She stared up at him, a questioning look on her face.   
  
Oblivious to her battled expression, Harry continued to talk. "But I just want you to know that..." He finally noticed her glaring eyes. "What?"   
  
"You believe I feel as if you rejected me?"   
  
"Not so much rejected, as turned down. But I can understand it." He began to tug at her hand in an attempt to get her across the street.   
  
She pulled her hand out of his grasp. "How do you know what I was feeling when I wrote that note?"   
  
"I don't know the exact things that were running through your head but I could only guess. I suppose you felt upset because I don't have those same feelings for you that you have for me. You were peeved that I was able to get over you and move on with my life."   
  
She put her hands on her hips and glared at him.   
  
"I thought we resolved everything back at the restaurant," he continued. "But I guess I was wrong."   
  
"I was peeved you got over me?"   
  
He held out his hand to her. "Let's wait until we're indoors. I think you'll feel a little calmer  
once you get a nice cup of coffee. Perhaps some herbal tea might do you some good cause you look a little on the edge."   
  
"I don't need any tea to calm me down. And as for those feelings you say I had for you, well they just got resolved right now." She shook her head. "Your ego must have gone through the roof when you read that note. You were probably thinking to yourself, `Poor Hermione, she can't get over me, the great stud that I am.'"   
  
"I didn't mean it---"   
  
"Yes you did mean it like that. You know what? I have nothing else to say to you. And if you'll excuse me, I have to get going. And I suggest you do the same. I certainly wouldn't want you to look like a wreck for your big day tomorrow."   
  
"But what about our discussion?"   
  
"We've already had it." She turned on her heels and began to walk in the opposite direction. "Have a good night," she shouted over her shoulder.   
  
Storming down the road, she ignored him as he called out, "Hermione, Hermione!"   
  
She made her way down another street, thinking about what he had said to her. "Arrogant prick," she muttered under her breath. She stopped walking when she realized she was heading down the wrong direction. She closed her eyes and threw back her head. "No! The bookstore is down the other way."   
  
She took a deep breath as she considered heading back in Harry's direction. Just as she was about to make up her mind, she heard footsteps coming after her. "Hermione, wait!" came the voice from the darkness.   
  
She quickly turned around and began to walk down the road again. "Go home to you bride Harry. She's expecting you."   
  
"Will you hold on for a moment?"   
  
His voice was now a bit louder, she assumed he was directly behind her, but she did notwant to turn around and look at his face. She was about to turn into another street, when he grabbed her arm.   
  
"Why do you have to make everything so difficult?" he asked, a little out of breath.   
  
"And why do you have a problem understanding that I have no desire to talk about this matter any longer?" She tried to pull her arm away from him, but his grip tightened. "Will you let got of me!"   
  
"Is this young man bothering you, Miss?" came a deep male voice behind her. She turned around and looked into the eyes of an elderly man.  
  
"Are you being accosted?" the man asked again. "Because I can take care of him if you want."   
  
The man looked Harry up and down and shook his cane in the green-eyed man's face. "Don't give me  
that look. I know I'm old, but I still have some spark in me. I still know some spells." He  
reached into his robes and pulled out his wand. "Let me see. I can turn you into a--"  
  
"There's no need," said Hermione. She placed a hand on the man's wand and redirected it  
away from Harry. "I'm fine."   
  
"If you say so." The man kept his eyes on Harry as he made his way around a corner and out of sight.   
  
When Harry released his grip on her arm, she moved away from him.   
  
"I don't want you to go away mad," he stated. "I wasn't trying to upset you back there. I just want to clear up everything..." He began to look down the street. "Do you hear that noise?"   
  
She turned around to see what he was talking about, when he grabbed her around the waist and pushed her against a wall. Just then, a stagecoach came speeding down the road, close to them.   
  
Harry placed his body between her and the coach just as the wheel ran over a large puddle, splashing water all over the couple. Harry was able to shield her with his coat just as the water hit them.   
  
"That bastard!" he shouted. "He did that on purpose. He didn't have to drive that close to the curb, he had plenty of room."   
  
Hermione's face was pressed against his chest. She closed her eyes as the heat of his body began to swamp her. But that warmth vanished and the cool night air surrounded her once more when he moved away.  
  
"Are you okay?" he asked.   
  
She opened her eyes. "Aside from the fact that you slammed my shoulder against a brick wall, I'm perfectly fine."   
  
"What? I was trying to help you out."   
  
She moved her hair back behind her ear. "There was no immediate danger. The worst that could have happened was I'd get soaked."   
  
She looked up at him. "My God, you've got water all over you." She considered for a moment his act of heroism. "I guess it's a good think you pulled me away from the curb like that." She managed to smile at him. "Thanks."   
  
"I can feel the water running down my back."   
  
"Hold still. I'll use a drying spell on you." She pulled out her wand and pointed it at him. In a flash, his drooping wet hair and coat were dry. "Is that better?"   
  
"Yes. Thanks." He ran his hands threw his hair, trying to fix it into some sort of style. "Do  
I look all right?"   
  
She quickly glanced at him. "Yes you look fine. You always look good." She immediately looked down when she heard those words escape her mouth. She gazed at him to see if he had noticed; a faint smile was on his face.  
  
She loudly cleared her throat. "I guess I'll be going now. I want to get the book before the  
store closes." As she said those words, she found it very hard to move her legs; she remained in the same spot.  
  
As she made a second attempt to leave, she saw his body coming closer to her. She moved back as she felt his fingers touch her face. "You've got some mud on you," he said. He cupped his hand under her chin as she thumb moved against her cheek. "There. It's gone now."   
  
Although he had completed his task, his hand did not move away from her face; his fingers remained where they were, stroking her skin. She wanted to turn her head or move his hand away, anything to get him off of her, but she could do no more than stand there.   
  
"Look at me," he whispered.   
  
She did not dare move her head and look at his eyes; she was intent on staring at his chest.  
She felt his hand push her chin up, forcing her to look at his face. She tried not to meet his gaze; her eyes fluttered everywhere on that face, but his eyes. But it soon became unbearable to resist that emerald stare, as it beckoned for her to move her gaze upwards.  
  
Looking at his green eyes, she tried to conceal all the emotions running through her. Her eyes tried to remain placid, showing no signs of what she was feeling. But she soon began to melt into his stare.   
  
His hand dropped from her chin and ran down her neck, settling on her collarbone. Her breath jetted out in a light pant as she felt his fingers caress her skin. The strong control she had over her body was now beginning to fail; her hands began to relax out of their tight fists. She closed her eyes and surrendered to his warm touch.   
  
Feeling his hand lift off her body, her eyelids flew open as she stared up at him. The expression in his eyes had changed; the once calm look that had relaxed her a few minutes ago was gone. He took a step away from her.   
  
"What's wrong?" she asked.   
  
He stood back against the street lamp and continued to stare at her in silence. Without realizing it, she began to slowly close the gap between them. She reached out and took his hands in her own. Standing on the tips of her toes, she lifted herself and rested her lips on the corner of his mouth.   
  
Her eyes closed as she felt his lips against hers. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and increased the pressure of the kiss. Her lips moved against his, as she attempted to arouse a response from him. Soon, his mouth was finally coaxed into participating in the embrace.   
  
Taken aback by the response, she pulled away. She looked up at him, watching as he stared back at her through half closed eyes.   
  
She threw her head back and tilted her face towards him, her wet lips awaiting him. Through long lashes, she could see as he looked down at her; his facial expression indicating he was pondering something.   
  
She soon saw him bend his head down, coming towards her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into him.   
  
His head was now hovering above hers, half his face shielded by his hair, which swept against her cheek. She could feel his breath as it came down in wheezing pants, the warm air brushing against her skin.   
  
She let a low moan escape her lips as she thought of the pleasure that was to come. The dreams and fantasies of the past couple of years were finally becoming a reality. She tilted her head further back. Her lips puckered, she awaited the weight of his mouth on top of hers.   
  
"Hey you two!" shouted a voice. "I will not have any of that in front of my establishment. If you want to mess about, go to a hotel."   
  
The shouting startled them, as they both quickly pulled apart and began to stare with bright eyes at the berate man.   
  
"You kids are all the same, snogging where ever you find fit," the man began. "Now get out of here before I cover you both with warts, then you won't want to snog each other anymore."   
  
Harry took a few steps back and began to adjust his coat.   
  
The man stared at him, inching closer. "Hey, might you be Harry Potter?" He tilted his head and squinted his eyes, staring at the young man's half obscured face.  
  
Harry quickly turned the other way, brushing his hair over his face in the process.   
  
"You look just like him. Do you mind turning around so I could get a better look at you?"   
  
Hermione looked up to see Harry glance back at her. The look in his eyes was trying to tell her something, but before she could interpret its meaning he took off running down the  
street.   
  
She stayed perched against the wall, her hand floating over her mouth as she watched him disappear into the darkness. 


	3. Don't You Want to Take Care of Your Fami...

Chapter 3: Don't You Want to Take Care of Your Family  
  
  
Harry continued running until he was down the block. He rounded the corner and stopped. Leaning against the wall, his breathing was erratic and heavy. His knees buckled and he slid to the ground, where he stayed. His hands flew to his ears in a vain attempt to drown out the deafening thumping of his heart as it beat against his chest; he finally knew what it was to run away from passion.   
  
He brought his knees to his chest and kept it there until he heard a noise approaching him. Hearing the footsteps getting closer, he disapparated.  
  
When he opened his eyes, he was in the sitting room of Cho's bedroom suite. Taking off his coat, he sat on one of the chairs and lowered his head as he tried to slow down his pulse. When his body had finally stopped shaking, he stood up.   
  
He looked around the room, at the ornate fireplace in the corner that flickered hues of gold from it's dying ambers. The mantle still displayed the picture of the couple from the Yule Ball during her seventh year. He picked up the frame, looking down at the image of them; he dressed in robes of green and her in silvery white.  
  
He put the picture back in its place and followed the low hum of music that was coming from her bedroom. He gingerly pushed back the sliding glass doors, bringing her mahogany canopy bed into view. Oh, the numerous escapades that bed had seen, the many late night chats that had occurred while cocooned underneath those white chiffon curtains.   
  
And there she was, kneeling in the corner, her back to him. She was placing items into a suitcase, but was soon on her feet when a fast paced song came on the radio. He stood in the doorway, mesmerized by the sight of her dancing around the room, oblivious to his presence in the background. She bobbed her head to the music, her long black hair swinging freely. Her white, satin nightgown grazed the floor, making her appear as if she were floating.  
  
After observing her for a few minutes, he slowly crept up behind her, taking soft and deliberate steps. He walked until he was standing a few feet away from her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and whispered, "Hello darling."   
  
Cho screamed and jumped away from him. Turning around, she placed her hands over her mouth and stared at him. Her eyes widened as she scanned his face. "You little scoundrel. You scared the daylights out of me. " She was still breathing heavy. "How long have you been in here watching me?"   
  
"Long enough to know that you shouldn't dance like that at the reception."   
  
  
She hit him on the shoulder. As she playfully swung at him again, he grabbed her arm and pulled her close. "Is that how you greet your future lord and master?"   
  
As they embraced, there came a light tapping on her bedroom door. "Cho?" came the voice from outside her room. "Why were you screaming honey? Is everything alright?"  
  
"Mom, I'm sorry for waking you," Cho shouted back. "I'm just excited because I'm getting married to the best man alive." She leaned forward, placing a kiss on Harry's lips.   
  
"Well, try to get some sleep. It's very late. You should get some rest for tomorrow."   
  
"Okay."  
  
"Goodnight Mrs.--" She quickly smothered Harry's mouth with her hand, stopping him from talking.   
  
"What did you say dear?" called Mrs. Chang.   
  
"Nothing," said Cho. "I just wanted to wish you a good night." She kept her hand planted firmly on his mouth until her mother's footsteps were no longer audible. She removed her hand and stared at him. "What do you think you're doing? If she found out you were here, she'd throw a fit."   
  
"Why? I can understand keeping it a secret all those other times I used to sneak in here, but we're getting married tomorrow." He looked down at his watch; it was already one in the morning. "We're getting married today. I'm pretty sure they know that we've already had sex. I mean, we've practically been living together for the past couple of months."   
  
She dropped her head and began to look at the floor. He took a step back as he stared at her. "What?"   
  
"My parents are old fashioned," she said slowly. "They still see me as their precious little girl." She lifted her head and looked him in the face. "They don't know I've been staying with you. They think I've been sleeping at one of my girlfriend's house."   
  
He shook his head. "You're very crafty aren't you? It's okay. I don't blame you for wanting to keep something like that a secret. But it's a good your parents see you as being pure, because they would drop dead if they knew what a freaky animal you were."  
  
She narrowed her brows into a frown. "Very funny. Anyways, how was your stag party? Did you have a good time?"  
  
He smiled. "Yeah. But I missed you. I couldn't wait to get back here and be with you." He flung an arm around her waist and pulled her to him.   
  
"I'm glad you had a good time," she said. "But I was beginning to doubt if you were going to come over." Her fingers went to his shirt, as she began to straighten his collar.   
  
"Sorry about being so late, I had to run an errand." He noticed that she wasn't looking at him; her gaze was directed at his neck.   
  
Soon her fingers drifted from his collar to his neck as well. She then grabbed his chin and began to turn his head from side to side.   
  
"What are you doing?" he asked, a puzzled look on his face.   
  
"Nothing, just hold still." She leaned close to his neck, as her fingers began to pull at his skin. "This side is clear," she said. She turned his face again and checked the other side of his neck.   
  
"Cho, what are you doing?"   
  
"Inspecting you."   
  
"For what?" He tried to move his head away, but she kept his chin firmly locked between her fingers.   
  
"Stop squirming, I'm almost done. I just want to check you for any signs of wrong doing." After thoroughly evaluating him, she muttered, "Okay, no love bites. That's good. But she could have left her smell on you."   
  
"What smell? Love bites? What are you-" Before he could finish his sentence, she leaned forward and pressed her face into his shirt collar. He could hear her taking deep breaths.   
  
When she finally let go of him, she stepped back and smiled. "Everything checks out. You've been a good boy tonight." She kissed him. He would have kissed her back, but he was still trying to make sense of what had just happened.   
  
His eyebrows stayed in their ever-fixed furrowed position. "What was that all about? Why would I have love bites on my neck? And what's with smelling my shirt?"  
  
"It's no big deal. Just something that a couple of my friends told me I should do to you, just to make sure you weren't doing something you're not supposed to." Her eyes didn't meet his gaze for very long, before they skipped away. She then walked away before he could ask her another question.   
  
He sat on her bed and followed her around the room with his eyes as she walked to her dressing table and picked up a hairbrush.   
  
She turned around to face her large mirror and began to brush her hair. She pretended not to see him as his reflection stared back at her. But after a few minutes, his unrelenting stare became too much for her to try to ignore. She put down her brush. "Will you stop staring at me like that? It's a bit disturbing to look in the mirror and see you making that face at me."  
  
"You thought I would mess around with another woman tonight, didn't you?"  
  
She whirled around. "No, I didn't think you'd do that." She dropped her head and began to finger the silk embroidery on the edge of her gown. "Actually, I don't know what to think."  
  
Harry lay back on the bed, his long legs stretched out before him. He turned his head to watch her as she continued fumbling with her gown.  
  
She approached the bed, lifted his legs onto her lap and began to take off his shoes and socks. "People have been telling me that during stag nights, some guys go a little crazy. They often think that it's their last chance of freedom, so they try to snog and shag as many women as possible."   
  
"But we didn't go to any clubs. We just went out to dinner. That's all. We're getting married tomorrow and you still don't trust me?"  
  
"I do trust you. I just don't trust other people. I've heard nothing but horrible stories from my friends ever since I told them you were having a stag party. I tried not to let anything they said affect me, until I found out that Ron was organizing the party. And well.you know what he's like."   
  
"What he's like?"  
  
"Well, he practically lives in those clubs. And since he's your best friend, I thought he would influence you to go somewhere seedy. And, Parvati told me that the restaurant is just around the corner from a club called.The-"   
  
"The Witches' Brew."   
  
She raised her eyebrows. "So, you know the club?"  
  
"I just know of it. The guys were thinking about going there tonight, but-"  
  
"I bet is was Ron who made the suggestion."  
  
"Actually it was Justin. The fact remains that I didn't go. And why would you think that it would be Ron's idea to go to the strip club?"  
  
"After what he got you for your birthday, I'm surprised you would ask me that."  
  
Harry placed his hands over his face, so she couldn't see him laugh.  
  
"It's not funny. I know he meant it as a goof, but it was humiliating. Here I was trying to throw you an elegant birthday party, and he strolls in with a girl dressed in a French maid's outfit." She hit him on the knee. "Will you stop laughing? My poor mother nearly had a heart attack when she entered the room and saw that girl shaking her butt in your face. It's a good thing I had some smelling salt with me."  
  
She watched him for a while longer and then turned her head away, bringing her hand to her face.   
  
"You're laughing too," he said. "I see you."  
  
"No I'm not." When she turned to face him, her cheeks were slightly flushed. "Anyways, I'm really sorry for doubting you. I shouldn't have paid any attention to their talk. I know you would never do anything like that to me. Cause you know I'll hurt you if you did." Her fingers reached inside his pant leg and pinched his skin.  
  
He returned the smile she bestowed upon him, but the happiness didn't reach his eyes. His gaze swiftly drifted to the picture of them at their engagement party.  
  
Her fingers went to his feet. "Ah, they're cold. Could you hand me that bottle. It's on the nightstand, near the vase." He placed the small bottle into her hand. She squeezed the contents of the container onto her palms and massaged his feet.   
  
Harry began to relax as the oil warmed up his skin. "What I don't understand is why you would listen to Parvati. What kind of friend fills up another girl's head with horror stories like that? She's been doing that sort of thing since we first started dating. She seems to know more about my whereabouts and what I'm up to than."  
  
He watched her face. Although she was looking at him, her eyes seemed distant; she appeared to be preoccupied with something. Her hands moved away from his feet. "Oh my God! Harry, turn it up! The radio, turn it up!"   
  
Harry reached for the radio and moved the dial. As the sound grew louder, a woman could be heard talking. "This dedication goes out to HP. I will always love you forever."   
  
He listened as a slow song began to play on the radio. Cho got to her feet, a big smile on her face. She grabbed both of his arms and pulled him up. "Why don't you dance with me for a while?"   
  
He wrapped his arms around her waist, as she led them into a slow dance. "You must really love this song," he said.   
"This is our song Harry."   
  
He stared back at her with a bewildered look on his face. "It is?"   
  
She released her arms from around his neck and placed them on her hips. "Weren't you listening to the dedication?"  
  
"Yeah. It went out to HP.that's me, right?"   
  
"And some people say you're thick. Of course that was you. I called them tonight. I told them not to play the song until late because I wanted us to be together when it came on. But all my efforts seemed to have been wasted, since you weren't even aware the song was meant for you."  
  
She began to walk away, when he hooked his arm around her waist and pulled her back to his side. "That was very sweet of you. I'm sorry I didn't recognize the dedication right away. I guess I ruined the whole surprise. Do you think you could find it in your heart to forgive me?"  
  
She crossed her hands against her chest. "I guess."   
  
"Why don't you tell me why you dedicated this song to me."   
  
"This song was played during the night of the Yule Ball."   
  
A slow smile crept onto his face. "I remember that night quite well." Both arms wrapped around her and his fingers splayed against her back. "That was a great night. But I was really nervous."  
  
"I could tell."  
  
A startled expression spread on his face. "Was I that obvious? I tried my best to stay calm."  
  
"Harry, your hands were shaking and it took you like an hour just to remove my bra. I know it was your first time, but did you really have to tremble. I would have thought a guy of your popularity would have had some experience in that department."  
  
He looked away for a moment, but when he turned to face her again, there was a glimmer of something wicked in his eyes. A playful look was now on his face. "I was nervous because you were an experienced older woman and I wanted to please you." His lips curled into a half grin.  
  
She reached behind her and grabbed his hands as they tried to get hold of her derriere, pushing them away. "You make me sound like such a tart. Other than you, I've only been with one other." Her voice became choked and trailed off. She broke their gaze and began to look towards her grand window.  
  
His hand rose to her chin and she turned her head to glance at him. He leaned forward and kissed her lips. He continued stroking her face, by the while keeping vigilant eye contact. Once he saw that her melancholy had eased, he said, "But we didn't play any music when we were intimate."  
  
"I know. This song was played during the ball when we took our first dance. Remember?" She watched his face, trying to see if he had recalled the event; he merely stared back at her with blank eyes. She hit him on the arm. "Don't you remember? It was when you kissed me."   
  
Harry drew his eyebrows together. "I kissed you a lot of times during the dance and a lot more afterwards."  
  
"But the kiss you gave me during our dance was so special. That was the first time I really felt like I was truly your girlfriend." She pulled away from him and stood in the middle of the room, her eyes up at the chandelier, somehow imagining that night. "I remember the spot light was on us and it just felt like we were the only ones in the room."  
  
Harry slapped his hand on his forehead. "Oh God! Now I remember. That was one of the most embarrassing moments of my life. No wonder I've blocked it out of my memory."   
  
She immediately snapped out of her fantasy world and glared at him. "How could you say that? You told me you loved me right before we kissed. Even though you'd said it before, that time I think you really meant it."   
  
"I did mean it. Don't get me wrong, I really enjoyed kissing you, but when we pulled apart, everyone was staring at us. And the following day, The Daily Prophet had a big picture of us on their front page. I never heard the last of it from the guys ever again."  
  
He threw himself down on the bed. "That was a nightmare week for me. The Slytherins blew up the picture and posted it around school. I had to endure their jokes and snickering, and everyone made kissing noises at me where ever I went."   
  
"I don't know why you were so humiliated. I loved that picture. I even kept a copy of it."  
  
"No, you didn't."  
  
She went to the nightstand and opened the top drawer. She took out her scrapbook that contained newspaper clippings and magazine articles on their relationship. On the front page was their wedding announcement. She flipped through the pages until she saw the picture of them at the ball.  
  
Harry took the book from her and gazed at the image of them engaged in a lip lock. He winced when he saw Hagrid's amused face in the background. "That kiss was private. They shouldn't have published this picture. I'm embarrassed just looking at it."  
  
She grabbed the book from his hands and stared at the image. "Why was that embarrassing? Kissing is very natural."   
  
"Not when it's in front of lots of other people. Like that time you wanted me to give you a kiss in front of your girlfriends. That really unnerved me."   
  
"What was wrong with that? It was just a group of my friends; it's not like they were strangers. Plus I wanted everyone at the shower to see how in love we were." She put the large book back in its place.  
  
"But I can't do stuff like that. I'm not like Ron. I can't have it off with someone in the middle of the street and not think anything of it."  
  
"Don't exaggerate. I don't want you to snog me in front of everyone." She walked over to her dresser and continued packing her suitcase. "Speaking of Ron, did he do anything outlandish at the party?"   
  
"He flirted with anything that moved, got drunk and passed out, nothing out of the usual."  
  
She snorted loudly. "That guy blows my mind. Every time I open up the papers he's doing something wild. I read somewhere that he went into a store and bought out the whole left side."  
  
"He's just having some fun. He's never had any money in his life. The twins' shop is doing well and supplies the family with a steady income, but Ron's contract is the most money that family has ever seen in their life. Can you blame the guy for going a little overboard?"  
  
"I don't think overboard is the word for it. I just wish he were a little less pretentious with his money. He's likely to lose it all if he's not careful. He's the prime example of what some people would call `nouveau riche.' "  
  
Harry sat up on his elbows. "What's that supposed to mean?"   
  
"Well, he has tons of money, but he's still clueless on what is or isn't good taste. Remember what he wore to the house last weekend? Who the hell wears fur robes and a hat with feathers in it?"  
  
"He did look a mess."   
  
"He sure did. Just because you can afford fur, doesn't mean you should buy it. Only some people look right wearing that stuff. He looked ridiculous."   
  
"But he only wore it to try to impress you and your friends. He knows you guys are upper class and he wanted to fit in."   
  
"But he looked like an idiot. Why doesn't he just get a stylist to help him dress? And I thought I told him he could only bring one guest and he shows up with two girls decked out in God knows what. And he just had to get drunk and dance around like a maniac."  
  
A smile spread on Harry's lips. "Yeah, he tends to do that a lot." He thought back at how the redhead grooved on the pool table, wiggling his bottom and gyrating his hips like the Muggle entertainer Elvis. "But you must admit, he has a lot of rhythm. You should have seen all those people at the restaurant and the way they admired his dancing. That is, until he hit his head on the light fixture."  
  
She laughed to herself and shook her head. "It's funny, you know? He's got this big fat contract with the Cannons and is making lots of money with endorsements. But underneath, he's still a poor man playing dress up. It's like those poor families who win The Daily Prophet drawing. They go out and buy expensive clothes and stuff, but they still don't know how to act."   
  
She began to place frilly negligees into her suitcase. "I'm bringing these to our honeymoon. I have a few other things that I'm also taking, but I want to surprise you. They're a bit erotic, and I think you will be shocked when you see them."   
  
"It wouldn't be a black dildo, would it?"   
  
"A black what?"   
  
"Nothing." He turned his head so he could hide his smile.  
  
"Anyway, I saw the McNeely family who won the drawing last month. They were having dinner at a fancy restaurant, and they looked really stylish. But then they started eating with their fingers. I couldn't believe it; it was so disgusting. That's the same thing I see with Ron. Like my mother always says, `You can put a pig in a suit, but underneath it'll still be a pig.' "   
  
Harry began to glare at her. "That's a really mean thing to say, especially about someone I care about. Why would you want to repeat something like that? And why are you attacking him all of a sudden?"  
  
She turned around and was almost taken aback by the intensity of his glare, as his eyes narrowed on her. "I'm not attacking him. I just think he has little control over himself and I'd hate for you for follow that route. I just know he'll try to lure you to join him in his wild escapades. I think he might be a bad influence on you. You never used to drink when we first started dating and now you're at the pubs with him nearly every night."   
  
"Just because I'm at the pub, it doesn't mean I'm drinking. And you don't have to worry about me being enticed into doing anything stupid. I have some good influences in my life that keep me on the straight and narrow. Like Hermione, she's smart and is headed down the right track with her life. Obviously, you don't see anything wrong with her."  
  
He lifted his head and glanced her way, awaiting a response. But she stood up and faced her mirror. He eyed her reflection as she went back to brushing her hair; her face was calm and relaxed, showing or giving away nothing. He wondered if she heard him.   
  
There was a long moment of silence and then she began to talk as if he had not spoken at all. "Oliver Wood is on your team right?"  
  
"Yeah, he's the captain."  
  
"He's a nice guy, has a good head on his shoulders. How come the two of you don't hang out?"  
  
"We do, but he's usually busy planning game strategies with the coach." He rolled onto his side and sat up on his elbow. "What's this sudden interest in Oliver?"  
  
"You should really consider hanging out with him more." She bent over and began to brush the back of her head. When she straightened out, her hair appeared thicker. "I just thought you might want to hang out with some people other than Ron once the Quidditch season begins."  
  
Harry sat up and threw his legs over the side of the bed. "You don't want me to be around Ron?"   
  
Satisfied with her hair, she put down her brush and walked to the bed. She sat on the floor and wrapped her arms around his legs. "You can socialize with him, but try to keep other friends too. I'm sure you could find other players on the team who are a bit more respectable to be around."   
  
"Ron is my best friend and I can hang out with him if ---"   
  
"Of course you can honey. You can hang around anyone you want." She got up and sat down next to him. "I'm not telling you who you can and can not be friends with. I would never do that. I just know that Ron has a bit of a reputation."   
  
She placed a hand on his thigh, rubbing his muscles in a circular motion. "I just know that some sponsors have taken an interest in you." She leaned forward and lightly kissed his cheek. "Just wouldn't want you to lose an endorsement deal because of whom you associate with."   
  
Her fingers curled around his chin and she turned his face. She kissed the other cheek. "I know that you want to support your family. You and I will have children in a couple of years and don't you want to give them the best?" She grabbed his face with both hands and tilted his head downwards. She placed kisses on his forehead, her lips running along his scar.  
  
"And what about Sirius?" she asked. "He got badly hurt on his last assignment. And I don't know about you, but I don't think the Ministry is going to keep handicapped Aurors on their payroll. Don't you want to take care of him?"   
  
Harry closed his eyes and thought sadly of his Godfather, confined to a wheelchair after a violent confrontation with a powerful Dark Wizard.  
  
Her mouth reached the side of his face and her breath fanned his ear as she whisper, "I just want to make sure that everyone in our little family is taken care of. "   
  
"I do want to take care of you, Sirius and our children, everyone. But I also want to have my friends in my life. And that means Ron."   
  
"You will have him in your life baby. You will be around him almost everyday." She kissed his eyes, before placing featherlike kisses along the bridge of his nose. When she reached his mouth, she pulled away and brought her hand to his face. "You have such full lips," she muttered.  
  
His eyelids became heavy and began to drop, as her finger traced his mouth. When she reached the edge of his upper lip, she abruptly drew back her hand.   
  
"Don't stop," he whispered. "I liked what you were doing"  
  
She squinted and lowered her head, so she could get a better look at her finger. "Baby, did you eat any red candy tonight?"   
  
"No. Why?"  
  
Her eyes fluttered from her fingertip to his lips and back again. "No particular reason."   
  
Harry watched as she began to pull away from him. "What's wrong? You got sick of exploring my face?" He observed her eyes and how her gaze remained fixed on his lips. "Why are you staring at me like that? Did you see some mud on me?"  
  
  
  
"Why would you have mud on you?" she slowly asked.   
  
"I got splashed with some muddy water by a stagecoach. I guess some of it must have dried onto my skin when.Dean used the drying spell."   
  
He took off his shirt and looked at it. There were brown splotches on the back, from where the mud had dried. "I think I'm going to take a shower. I'll feel a lot better after I'm clean."  
  
He stood up and began to undress. As he slid his boxers down his body, he looked up to see her staring at him. "What is it now?"  
  
"You love me don't you?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
She walked over to him and let one hand slide down his bare chest, his stomach and below his hips. He gasped. She kept her hand there; her expert fingers knew where to go and what to strum. Her other hand slithered around to his back, landing on his taut buttocks, feeling his muscles clench. She was amazed at how she always managed to get a response from him. Soon she felt a hot part of his body pressing eagerly against her hip.   
  
His arms rose and draped around her shoulders. He pressed against her body. "Do you think we can break that two week rule? I know you want to wait till our wedding night, but maybe we can cheat just a little bit."  
  
She lifted her head and brushed her lips against his. "Why don't you take a shower first," she murmured against his mouth. "Then we can see where things lead."  
  
"It'll be the quickest shower ever." A smile spread on his lips as he walked into her bathroom.  
  
She stood by the bed and looked down at her hand, eyeing that faint red stain that remained on her fingertip. She knew he hadn't gotten if from her, she had long removed her makeup; she wasn't even wearing any lip-gloss. Soon thoughts of the restaurant, Ron, and the club rushed into her head.   
  
She sighed loudly and rubbed her thumb and forefinger together until the stain disappeared.  
  
Seeing his shirt as it lay on the floor, she picked it up. She brought the garment to her nose; no other scent other than his cologne could be detected. Shaking her head, she decided that she must be mad and went about the room gathering up his clothes.  
  
Walking into the sitting room, she was about to ring the servant bell, when she saw his coat laying on the chaise longue. As she draped the garment over her arm, several sickles fell out of its pocket. She leaned over to pick up the money, when she noticed a neatly folded piece of paper lying amongst the silver coins. 


	4. Why Did You Have To Chase After Me

Chapter 4: Why Did You Have To Chase After Me  
  
  
The money dropped from her hands as she focused her attention on the slip of paper. After quickly picking it up, she eyed the blue stationary, before coming to the conclusion that he must have written her a love letter. A smile spread on her face as she thought of how shy he could be at times when it came to expressing his feelings for her.  
  
She let his clothes fall to the floor and sat down on the chaise lounge, resting her head on the pillow. As her fingers delicately unfolded the paper, she leaned into the cushions, repaired to read.  
  
As her eyes scanned the paper, her excitement began to fade when she realized it was not his handwriting. She read the note several times before letting it slip through her fingers and drift onto the carpet.   
  
She remained in that position for the longest time, as Hermione's words flashed across her mind. She placed her hands on her lap and closed her eyes.   
  
"Cho, where'd you go?" came his voice from the bedroom. "I'm ready for us to begin." Harry poked his head in the sitting room and eyed her. "You still in the mood?"  
  
She leisurely opened her eyes and looked up at him, gazing over his glistening and wet body, his organ still engorged. She turned her head and looked the other way. Her hand rose to the small table nearby and fingered the flowers that lay there; the first bouquet he had given her, the ones she had bewitched so they'd always stay fresh.   
  
He sat back on his heels and rested his hand on her stomach, playing with the silky material of her gown. "Do you still want to." He brought his face forward and nuzzled her neck, his lips lightly grazing her skin. "I don't know how much longer I can keep this up. Literally."   
  
He pulled away from her when she remained quiet. "You were supposed to laugh," he said. He eyed the serious look on her face. "What's the matter?"  
  
Her hand dropped to the floor, as she grabbed the letter that lay near his feet. She held the piece of paper between her thumb and forefinger, and dangled it in front of his face.   
  
His pulse quickened when he saw the slip of paper. He looked away, as he tried to conceal his reaction, but her alert eyes never left his face, taking in every sign of discomfort on his part.  
  
"I was going to get my house-elves to wash your clothes," she began, "when this fell out of your coat pocket." The letter was now between her fingernails, as if she didn't want any part of it to touch her skin. "I read it, thinking it was a love letter that you might have written me. I hope you're not mad."  
  
"No." His voice quivered, but he cleared his throat and tried to talk in a composed manner. "I would have been curious too if I were you."  
  
"I was a bit surprised to find out it was from Hermione."   
  
He got a sudden lump in his throat at the mention of the other woman's name. There was a long silence, before she spoke once more. "I didn't know you saw her tonight."  
  
He watched her face and how calm she looked, how at ease she appeared to be. "She came to the stag party," he said.  
  
Cho's brows came together. "Came to the party? You mean she stopped by to wish you hello or something?"  
  
"No. She was a guest. She spent nearly the entire evening with us."  
  
She brought her hand down and let the letter lay on her lap. "But you never mentioned anything about her coming to the party. I looked over the guest list, and I don't remember seeing her name on there."  
  
"She was a last minute addition. I didn't think it was a big deal, so I didn't say anything to you. Do you have a problem with her attending?"  
  
"Yes I do. When I asked you if I could come, you said it was for guys only. But if Hermione was there, I should have been able to attend as well."  
  
He withdrew his hand from her belly when he noticed her narrowed eyes and clenched jaw. "I guess," he said weakly. "But the reason you couldn't go was because it was just going to be a group of my friends and I. When you had your wedding shower, you only invited your friends, right?"  
  
"But you were more than welcomed to come along."   
  
He quickly searched his brain for a good justification for his actions. He needed a defense that would not arouse her anger or suspicions. "But Hermione is familiar with most of the people at the party, you're not. You don't really know Fred and George, Seamus or even Neville. I just thought you'd feel uncomfortable."  
  
"I would have gotten a chance to know them."   
  
Harry looked down at the floor, all words having escaped him.  
  
She sounded more composed, almost cheery, as she said, "Anyway, it doesn't sound like she had a good time, since she doesn't want to attend the wedding."  
  
"No, she had a good time. It was only towards the end of the night that things got a bit strained."  
  
She brought the letter to her face and read out-loud what Hermione had written. Harry's heart squeezed when he heard those sad words repeated to him.   
  
Cho read the note in a matter-of-fact manner, her voice flat and unemotional. "What did she mean when she said it would be too hard for her to watch our wedding ceremony?"  
  
"I don't know," he muttered.  
  
"What did you do when she gave this to you?"  
  
"What could I do? She had already left by the time I found the note in my pocket." Harry took the paper from her hands and looked over it with melancholy of his face. "It's really too bad she won't be there. Don't you think?"  
  
"Yeah. We spent all that money getting her gown custom made, and she won't even show up."   
  
He stared at her in disbelief. "I don't care about the money. I would just like my best friend there. I'm really going to miss her. Things won't be the same without her."  
  
She looked at his face and then turned away, bringing her hand to the flowers once more. Her fingers gently grazed the petals of the pink roses. "Her not being there is not the end of the world," she stated.  
  
"But it would make things more complete."  
  
As her hand hovered over the flowers, they slowly lost their bloom and began to wilt.  
  
Harry watched in astonishment as the petals turned dark brown. "What's wrong with the flowers?"  
  
Her eyes were glassy as she stared at him, her face tense and tight.  
  
Harry touched her face. "What happened to your flowers?"  
  
She broke out of her trance and looked down at the sad and pathetic plants, as mold began to develop on them. She moved her hand away. "Oh, the freshness spell doesn't last forever. The flowers go bad after a couple of years."  
  
Harry brought his brows together. "I thought the spell was everlast-"  
  
"Oh, who cares about some stupid flowers? I could always buy more." She snatched the letter from his hands and took one last hard look at it before placing it on the table.   
  
She then grabbed his face and held it between her palms. "Let's not talk about Hermione anymore. What's done is done." She sat up and entwined her arms around his neck. She bend down and kissed him. Then she brought her mouth to his ear. "Why don't we finish what we began?"  
  
He pulled away. "I don't know. I'm not in the mood anymore." He looked down at his body, his excitement was gone and his organs were relaxed and placid once more. "All this talk about the stag party has been a bit of a turn-off."  
  
She sat so her knees were on either side of his body. "Don't worry about that. I'll be more than happy to help you out in that department." She reached down and her fingers began to work their magic on him once more.   
  
He closed his eyes as that warm touch surrounded him, encircling and stroking him. He was then ready to do what he had wanted the moment he sprang from the shower. He leaned forward, falling onto her body as they caressed. They lay there for several minutes, clutching onto one another's body.   
  
"Not here," she whispered. "Let's go to bed."   
  
He carried her into the bedroom and fell with her on the bed. Before they began making love, he was already seducing her with his eyes as they gazed down her naked body, enjoying the curves that she always kept hidden. He lay on top of her, basking in the feel of her skin.   
  
He kissed her and was about to proceed with more, when she said, "Turn off the lights first."  
  
He pulled away and looked down at her face. He began to laugh as Justin's words suddenly popped into his head.  
  
"What's so funny?"  
  
"Nothing." He leaned down and kissed her again.  
  
  
  
************  
  
  
  
Cho rolled onto her side, her arm landing on his chest. He brought that hand to his lips and kissed it, before placing it on her side of the bed. He looked at her; she was fast asleep. There was a pleasant smile on her lips; she was clearly basking in the afterglow of their activities as she slumbered.   
  
He was unable to sleep, spending most of his time staring out into the semi dark room, which was dimly illuminated by the hazy glow of moonlight that seeped through the window. He got up from the bed and carefully made his way out of the room, trying his best not to stub his toes on the furniture.   
  
He crept to her sitting room and was instantly greeted with bright lights. "Dim," he whispered and the lights in the room softened to a light pink hue. He approached the little chair near the servant bell, and there were his clothes, washed, iron and neatly folded. He shook his head, amazed at the efficiency of her house-elves.   
  
After getting dressed, he paced the room, trying to calm his jittery nerves. He walked to the small window and opened it, letting the cool breeze hit his face. His senses now fully aroused, he decided that a walk would do him some good. He at first considered strolling around the manor's immense gardens, but fear of being seen by her parents made him erase that option from his mind.   
  
His hand drifted to his stomach as it began to rumble. His discomfort over having people watch him eat had prevented him from enjoying his dinner that night. Her house-elves would undoubtedly oblige his every desire, but he knew they were still preparing for the wedding and he didn't want to add to their responsibilities.  
  
He stole a quick glance back into her bedroom to make sure she was still asleep, she was. He put on his coat, deciding he would only be gone a few minutes; he would return before she even noticed his absence.   
  
He apparated onto a street corner, just outside a pub. As he prepared to cross the street, another pedestrian trotted by, bumping into him. "Excuse me," said Harry. He watched as the other man continued walking as if nothing had happened, muttering obscenities under his breath. Harry stood still and squinted. "Seamus?"  
  
Seamus turned around. "Hey Harry. I didn't even see you there." He walked back to where Harry was standing and stared at him, his eyes narrowed.  
  
Harry observed the queer statement on the other man's face. "What's wrong with you?"  
  
"Ron wouldn't happen to be with you, would he?"  
  
"No. Neville took him home. Remember? What's wrong?"  
  
"Nothing. It's just that I'm going to kill him when I see him. I hope he'll be sober at your wedding because I'll feel bad about beating up a drunk man." Seamus brought his fist into his palm.  
  
"What did he-"  
  
"He promised he would pay for my entry into the club. But then he had to go and get drunk. So when we reached the club, I realized I didn't have any money, but Justin and Dean had already gone inside. I spent two hours sitting outside, waiting for them to come out. I could just kill someone right about now." He threw his head back. "God, I hate being poor!"  
  
"Seamus, I could have given you the money."  
  
"Well, it's a little late for that now." He took a deep breath and looked at Harry. "I'm sorry. I'm just a little upset at the moment." He closed his eyes and sighed loudly.   
  
Harry placed his hand on the man's shoulder. "Why are you so wound up about not getting a lap dance?"  
  
"It's not just the dance, it's everything. It's my whole damn life." He began to blink rapidly as his eyes got misty. "Nothing goes the way I plan. Everything turns out bad for me. Everyone else is living the good life, but me."  
  
"That's not true."  
  
"Yes it is. I've got nothing good in my life. I find myself envying everyone, even Neville. He's rich now. Who knew his grandmother had all that money? I wish I had a rich relative who would drop dead and leave me a big inheritance."  
  
"Seamus, don't say stuff like that. You've got a lot going for you."  
  
"Like what? Everyone's got career plans, but me. You and Ron are going to be stars, Neville's going into international relations, Dean's training to an Auror, Justin is doing something and then there's me. I've got nothing, no career and no girlfriend. Even fat Neville's got a girl. How the hell he got Padma is beyond me."  
  
"I thought you were going to train with Dean? You made such a big deal about being an Auror."  
  
Seamus sat down on the curb and rested his head in his hands, his elbows on his knees. "They did offer me a position, but I turned them down. I suddenly got scared, thinking I didn't have the right qualifications. But then I realized they wouldn't have offered my the job if they didn't think I was the right man."   
  
He dropped his head and looked down at the ground. "When I went back to tell them I had changed my mind, they said the position was already filled. I'll have to wait until next year. A whole year. What am I going to do with myself till then? I should've just taken the damn job when I had the chance."  
  
"You're not the only one who's passed up an opportunity," Harry muttered in a low voice. He sat down next to the other man and put his arm around his shoulders.   
  
"Now, when everyone else is earning a great living," continued Seamus, "I'll be sitting home on my arse, eating beans on toast."   
  
"Don't worry, things will work out for you." He began to rub Seamus' back, not knowing what to tell him, trying to think up some words of encouragement. "Hey, I know. Why don't you go to the Ministry again and try to convince that you're the man for the job. And if they still say no, then maybe there's a position open for a Hit Wizard."  
  
Seamus shook his head. "Nah. I like the intelligence part of being an Auror. That's my specialty."  
  
"Then go back there and show off your secret agent skills. You just have to be persistent. If you want something bad enough, you can get it. Plus I know they're looking for someone now, since Sirius."  
  
Seamus looked at him, as it was now his turn to console his friend. "I heard what happened to him. I'm really sorry. How's he doing?"  
  
"He's fine," murmured Harry. "It's just a bit weird for him to suddenly be dependent on other people. But he's adjusting. He's getting really good with that wheelchair. I raced him in the hospital corridors and he beat me every time."   
  
He looked around, suddenly wondering why Seamus had been walking by himself. "What are you doing around this side of town? The club is nowhere near here."   
  
"I just walked over here to get out some of my frustrations. The guys said they would meet me just around the corner in a few minutes. They went to visit Dean's lady friend and to pick up his car."  
  
"Dean has a car?"  
  
"Yeah. Justin's gotten him into loving all things Muggle. But I don't know why he has the thing, he can't even operate it."  
  
Just as he spoke, Dean pulled up in the car with Justin. Harry and Seamus quickly jumped onto the sidewalk. The car's tires spun incredibly fast, hitting the curb as it came to an abrupt stop. The loud thumping of music blared out the windows.   
  
"You asshole," said Seamus. "You almost hit us."  
  
Dean took a puff of his cigarette and casually glanced at him. "Just get in the car."  
  
As Seamus opened the car door, billows of white smoke came oozing out in large clouds. Seamus coughed and began to fan the smoke out of his face. "What on earth are you smoking?"  
  
"Just a little something I picked up in a Muggle neighborhood."  
  
"It smells funny."  
  
"Yeah, but they're really good. Right Justin?"   
  
Justin lay in the backseat, his head resting against the window. "Yeah," he managed to mumble. His eyes were cloudy and half closed.   
  
Harry eyed the back seat passenger with some concern. "Justin, are you all right?"  
  
Justin looked at him and gave him a toothy grin. "I'm perfectly fine." He then blew smoke out of his nostrils.  
  
Harry took a step back as the smoke hit his face. He recognized the smell immediately. It was something he was strangely familiar with, in due part to Dudley. He had often smelled that odor coming out of Dudley's bedroom.  
  
Seamus stuck his head out of the car window. "Thanks for the encouragement. I'll go to the Ministry after your wedding."  
  
Harry was about to say something in return, when Dean hit the accelerator. The green-eyed man jumped back as the car sped away. He watched as they rounded the corner and were gone from his sight.   
  
Standing alone, he wondered where he should go. But deep down, he knew exactly where he would head to next. He had not apparated in some random neighborhood; this was where Hermione lived.   
  
  
  
  
  
************   
  
  
  
  
  
She sat in the chair in front of the television, the sound turned down low as to not awaken her roommates. Her feet were propped up on a stool, Crookshanks sleeping on the floor next to her.  
  
She stared at the television, looking through it as if in a daze. Then her eyes flickered to the broken pieces of what used to be her radio, scattered along the floor. She was about to turn off her television and go to bed, when there was a sudden knock on the door.  
  
She glanced at her clock; it was three in the morning. She approached the door and looked through the peephole. And there he was, standing in the hall with a grin on his face, as if he knew she was observing him. She slowly opened the door.   
  
The two stared at each other for a few minutes, before he broke the silence. "Hi."  
  
"What are you doing here? It's three in the morning."  
  
"I know. I'm really sorry for disturbing you. I'll go and let you get some rest." He made his way to the winding staircase, and halted. He looked back at her once more.  
  
"Harry, you don't have to go. Come on in."  
  
"Are you sure? You look like you're ready for bed."  
  
"I've been awake all night. I'm not tired." She left the door open as she made her way into the kitchen. She glanced over her shoulder; he stayed perched in the hallway. "Come in and I'll make you some tea."  
  
He slowly walked into the flat and closed the door behind him. As he approached the kitchen, he spotted the broken pieces of wood on the floor. "What's that?"  
  
"That used to be my radio. Crookshanks knocked it over."  
  
Harry squinted to get a better look at the pieces. "That cat of yours sure did smash it into bits."  
  
"Do you want some scones?" she asked quickly. "I think I might have some left-over."  
  
He sat at the small kitchen table, as she poured him some tea and placed a plate of scones and jam in front of him. She then seated herself across from him.  
  
"So, did you get the book you wanted?" Harry asked.  
  
"No."  
  
"Why not? After all that hoopla you created about getting it?"  
  
"I had too much on my mind."   
  
He picked up a scone and lathered it with strawberry jam, before popping it into his mouth.   
She observed with some astonishment as he inhaled another one, smacking his lips in the process.   
  
"I didn't know you were so hungry," she said. "I think Hannah made some bangers and mash for her and Penelope's dinner. Would you like that as well?"  
  
With his mouth still full, he nodded his head.   
  
She picked up her wand from the counter and tapped it on the table. A plate of steaming hot sausages and mashed potatoes appeared before him. She sat back in her chair and watched him eat, enjoying the faint grunting sounds he made. "Did you enjoy your dedication?"   
  
Harry looked up at her from his plate. "My what?"  
  
"The dedication on the radio. Didn't you hear it?"  
  
"Yeah. I didn't think anyone." He pushed his food away. "How did you know about that?" She kept quiet. He let his eyes wander to the living room and to the shards of wood in the carpet.  
  
Seeing where his gaze was directed, she asked, "Did Cho do that to surprise you?"  
  
"Yeah. Except things didn't work out the way she had hoped. I didn't realize the song was for me."   
  
Hermione watched his face, observing the slow smile that crept onto his lips as he talked of his fianc‚e.   
  
"I actually couldn't remember the song," he continued, "but she told me it was played during-"  
  
"The Yule Ball," muttered Hermione.  
  
"Yeah, that's right. Everyone seems to remember that, but me. Anyway, you should have seen her when that song came on; she nearly jumped to the ceiling." He chuckled.  
  
She did not return his smile and lowered her head.  
  
He took another sip of his tea and looked around the room. Leaning against the wall in the corner was her trunk. "I guess you're all packed and ready to head off to Hogwarts," he said. "It's a good thing you have room mates who can look after this place while you're away."   
  
He looked at her for a response, but she kept quiet, her head in the same lowered position. She had now brought one hand to her face, shielding her expression as she stared down into her lap.  
  
"Herm, is there something-"  
  
"Why did you have to chase after me tonight?"  
  
He put down his tea and flashed her a puzzled look. "Well, it's obvious that your letter disturbed me. I was really upset when I read it. For you to write something like that was really hurtful, you know that? And I couldn't let you walk out of my life, not after all that we've been through."  
  
His brows knitted together into a puzzled look as he examined her face. "Why would you do something like that?"  
  
"I just thought it would be better for all of us," she said. "It would make everyone's life a little easier." Her voice was very faint; he had to strain just to hear what she was saying. "It would be better for Cho because she hates me. I would be better for me cause then I wouldn't have to pretend to be happy for you."  
  
"What about me? How would I benefit from my best friend not being around?"  
  
"Without me, you could devote all your time into being Mr. Cho Chang."  
  
"This is not funny Herm. I would have missed you." He reached across the table and grabbed her hand, stroking her skin. "You have been a constant in my life for seven years and now you think you can just disappear and it wouldn't affect me?"  
  
She did not utter a word. He was starting to grow frustrated by her lack of response. "That's not fair what you did." His voice was now growing louder, feeling himself tremble as the emotions began to rush through him. "What you did was cowardly. You don't drop a bomb like that and just leave. You have to stick around and be prepared for the consequences."  
  
Her head snapped up and she jerked in her seat. She pulled her hand from his gasp. "Don't you lecture me on what's cowardly and what's fair."  
  
He gasped when he saw her face. No wonder she kept her head down, he thought. Her cheeks were tear stained as the large drops flowed from her eyes. There was intensity in her glare that he had not expected.  
  
"It's okay for you to sit there and criticize me," she stated, "but you don't know what I was going through."  
  
She brought her hand to her face and wiped away the teardrop that drizzled down her cheek. "Don't you think that it hurt me to write that letter? Don't you think I too wanted nothing more than to be with you? But I decided that it was for the best that we not spend any time together."  
  
Her voice was choked as she tried to hold back her sobs, which were increasing. He could see that she was struggling just to be able to speak.  
  
"I was prepared to go on with my life," she said, "and forget about the past. But then you had to come after me."  
  
Her breathing was now heavy as her chest began to sharply heave in and out. She finally gave up her battle with her emotions and sat back in her chair crying. "Why did you have to come after me?" she asked in a weak voice. "Why did you have to stir all those emotions in me?"  
  
He opened his mouth to say something, but she interrupted him. "Why couldn't you just let me go on my way, get on with my life? That way, we would have gotten over each other."  
  
"What do you mean `gotten over each other?'"  
  
She wiped the last of her tears and snorted. "Oh, I forgot. You're still in denial."  
  
"How am I in denial? I have made myself perfectly clear to-" He stopped talking when he noticed the way in which she stared at him.  
  
"You mean you wouldn't have kissed me if that man hadn't interrupted us? You were just lowering your head for nothing?" When he didn't say anything to her, she shook her head. "Now you know why I wanted to get away from you. Whenever we get together, something always happens."  
  
She observed his face and the way he avoided her gaze. She sat up straight in her chair. "Fine. Deny that something was going to happen."   
  
"I'm not denying anything," he finally admitted. "I just think we can work this out. We don't have to stop seeing each other completely."  
  
He reached across the table and took hold of her hand once more. "I love you."   
  
He immediately looked down when those words escaped from his mouth. "You and Ron," he added quickly. "You are like family to me. I'm sure we can resolve things to a point where we both feel comfortable around each other."  
  
"When? You have your honeymoon, and then afterwards, you'll be at training camp with the Cannons. Plus, I'll be away at Hogwarts for most of the year. So when will you have time to resolve this?"  
  
"I don't know. We'll be able to squeeze in a day where-"  
  
She quickly pulled away from his touch. "You know what? Forget about it. We don't have to resolve this right away. I'm sure we can just wait until you cheat on Cho with me. That would be a perfect time."  
  
Harry dropped his head and began to knead his forehead with his fingers. "Things will not lead to that."  
  
"I'm glad you seem so confident with yourself."  
  
"I am confident. I know that what you have for me was induced by your breakup with Krum. But I assure you that nothing will happen between us. Because I love Cho." He stopped talking when he realized how much he emphasized that last sentence, making it sound a bit too forced for his liking.  
  
"This has nothing to do with Krum," she fired back. "The breakup was mutual; I don't have any lingering feelings for him." She snatched the cup and plates from in front of him and brought them to the sink.   
  
She was washing the teacup, when he came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. "We can deal with this," he whispered into her ear. "I want you to be at the wedding. I want you around on the most important day of my life."  
  
His body was now against hers. Hermione stood still and closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of his hands as they travel from her shoulders to the sides of her body, moving up and down.  
  
"Please say you'll be at the wedding," he breathed.  
  
As he moved closer to her, his hot chest melted perfectly with her back. Soon, she felt something rubbing against her bottom. Before she could guess what was pressing into her with such force, a faint beeping noise came into the room.  
  
Harry pulled away. "It's Cho," he said looking down at his watch. "She must really need me. This thing only beeps when it's an emergency." He went to the table and picked up his jacket from the back of the chair. "I guess I shouldn't have left her alone like that."  
  
He turned and looked at Hermione. "I need to know your answer before I leave."  
  
"And what answer would that be?"   
  
His warm breath was on her ear once more, "I want you to say you'll be at the wedding."  
  
The beeping noise was getting louder and soon flooded the room.   
  
"I really want you to be there today," he continued. "It would mean so much to me for you to stand by my side, to witness this event in my life."  
  
"You have Ron. He'll be there for you, if he can recover from his hangover. You don't need me around. Plus I'll look awkward standing there."  
  
"Herm, you won't look awkward. You'll look beautiful standing up there in your dress. Your gown is the same color as the robes you wore in our first Yule Ball. You looked stunning then, you'll be equally radiant today."  
  
He wrapped his arms around her waist. "If you're not there," he uttered, "who's gonna tell off Ron when he gets out of line? And who's gonna be ready with a counter curse when Snape starts hexing the other guests?"  
  
A smile came to her lips as he continued to coax her into attending the wedding, his warm breath moving from her ear, to her neck. "Fine," she said. "I'll be there."  
  
"Great. That's the best news I've heard in a long time."  
  
"Well, I'm glad you're so happy." She turned off the water and put the teacup on the tray to dry. "What time do you want me to be there?" She waited for his response while she dried her hands. "Harry?"  
  
She turned around. He was gone. 


	5. Some People Would Find You a Bit Strange

Chapter 5: Some People Would Find You a Bit Strange  
  
  
She stood in the middle of the room, tapping her slipper-covered foot on the floor. The glare in her eyes was already intense, but was made more so by the way the gleam of light from outside cascaded against her profile. Harry was busy taking off his coat and didn't notice the fierce look on her face - or perhaps Hermione's answer had made him oblivious to all by his own happiness.   
  
"Where have you been?" Cho asked. Harry had his head lowered and didn't look up at her. She then stood by and watched in annoyance as he banged his palm on the watch, to make it stop beeping. "Stop," she said, and the blare from the instrument ceased.   
  
Harry then proceeded to engage in various activities that included fumbling with his hair and shirt - all of them meaningless distractions that kept him from answering her question, she thought.  
  
"I asked you a question," she said in an icy tone that would surely catch his attention.   
  
"I went for a walk," he mentioned as nonchalantly as possible. "Over to where that restaurant you like so much is located." He then reached over and gently pulled up the nightgown strap that was slipping off her shoulder. "I just needed to get some fresh air."  
  
"You could have gone to the gardens. You always liked walking around the fountains."   
  
"I didn't want to get caught. I thought someone would see me. And since you made such a big deal about your parents not knowing I was here, I thought I shouldn't risk it."  
  
"Why didn't you tell me you were leaving? Do you know how frightened I was to wake up and discover you weren't here?"  
  
Harry looked down at Cho's feet, the tapping had increased; her anger was now growing. He reached for her arm, his fingers just gliding against her skin. His future wife was known to keep a grudge and if Harry wanted things to go smoothly that day, he had to make up with her quickly. Not that he feared her standing him up at the altar; he just didn't want any hostility during the honeymoon.   
  
"I would have woken you up," he started with his voice syrupy sweet and laced with as much regret as he could muster, "but you looked so beautiful asleep. And I thought I'd only be gone a short time."  
  
Slowly, the hard look of discontent on her face waned. "But why did you go to Highlands? You know they're closed at this time of night. If you're still hungry, I can get the house-elves to make you something to eat."  
  
"No," he said quickly, before he could fathom the severity of his statement, "I already ate at Hermione's." He then stopped for a moment, finally realizing too late what he had just said.   
  
"What?" she asked, her voice a lot louder that she had intended. "Why would you go over there at this time of night?"  
  
"I had to talk to her about something."  
  
"And what matter of business, may I ask, could have forced you out of bed and made you go over to her flat?"  
  
"Why are you getting so mad?" The look of alarm on her face had caused him to move a few steps away.  
  
"Well, it's just that one minute you're telling me you needed some fresh air and the next minute I'm learning that you went over to Hermione's. This story just keeps getting more and more interesting."  
  
"At first I did want some fresh air, but since I was in her neighborhood, I thought I'd talk to her as well." Harry dared to put his hands on her arms. When she did not push him away, he pulled her into an embrace He held her tightly in his arms, his fingers entangled in her black hair. He waited till her breathing had pacified then whispered in a breathy voice, "I know what I did sounds crazy, but I had to make sure that my second favorite girl would be there at the ceremony."  
  
She closed her eyes as the heat of his body encircled her. "Who's your first favorite?"  
  
He didn't need to say a word; just giving her a kiss was enough to answer her question.   
  
Just as she was melting into the kiss, letting his gentle touch assuage her anger, he abruptly pulled away. Her eyes still half closed, that dreamy euphoria present in their depths, she didn't register what he was doing until she saw him put on his coat.  
  
"I think I'll be off," he said as he raised his arms in the air and yawned loudly. "I'm really tired. I don't know how Seamus and the other guys can carry on like this night after night, I'm spent." He mentally calculated that since the wedding was not until the late afternoon, he could sneak in several hours of sleep.  
  
"You can't leave now," she said once her senses had come back to her. "I thought we'd wake up together. Plus, I promised my friends you'd have breakfast with us." She grabbed his arm, her touch pleading with him to stay longer.  
  
"I'd love to stay, but I've got a lot of things to do in the morning. I have to make sure the tuxes get delivered on time. And I also have to pack for the honeymoon."  
  
"Can't Dobby do all of that? You sure are paying him an awful lot to sit around and do nothing all day."  
  
Harry looked away. "I'd rather do those things myself." Before she could make another protest, he placed his hand over her mouth and uttered, "Don't worry. I'll pay you a visit before the ceremony."  
  
He gave her one last kiss and stepped back, before disapparating.  
  
  
************************************************************************  
  
  
Highlands was incredibly busy that Saturday morning. However, the large crowds of families were not the usual clienteles that normally frequented the trendy restaurant.  
  
Located in a neighborhood heavily populated with bookstores, museums and learning centers, the restaurant was a usual hotbed for the young musicians, artists and intellectuals who lived in the nearby flats and townhouses. They would normally sit at the bar and sip mocha-this and that while discussing the decline of the wizarding world.  
  
There was a great excitement in the air that morning, as the customers were all graced with the presence of the famous bride to be; whose wedding plans and dress had been discussed in great lengths in the papers. Although all were instructed by the restaurant managers to not approach or bother her, many customers could not help but take glimpses of the woman who in a few hours would be Mrs. Harry Potter.  
  
In the back of the restaurant, sitting around a large table overlooking the lake was Cho and her nine bridesmaids. Dressed in tailored pink suits - except for Cho, who wore ivory - they were the epitome of class and elegance as they enjoyed their breakfast of grapefruit halves and tea, and discussed the upcoming nuptials.  
  
The ten women all talked at once, discussing Cho's wedding dress and the house she will soon be sharing with Harry.  
  
"I have great plans for improving the house," said Cho. "I want to build a waterfall at the entrance. And of course, there's always the matter of the decor." A twisted look appeared on her face as the thought of the furniture that was now occupying the mansion.   
  
"Did Harry decorate it himself?" asked a woman at the far end of the table.  
  
"No. Those duties fell upon Molly Weasley. She did an adequate job with the place, but the furnishings are a bit...common."  
  
"Weasley? Is she related to that young man who's going to be the Cannons new chaser?"  
  
Cho took a long time to answer, as if saying the man's name caused her some pain. "His name is Ron. Molly is his mother." She then shook her head. "I swear, out of the seven hundred people attending the wedding, half of them will be Weasleys."   
  
One woman reached across the table and touched the future bride on the arm. "Did Harry pay you a visit last night?" She then sat back in her chair as she became absorbed in her own romantic notions. "Did you dine together by candlelight?"  
  
"Actually we fought most of the time," said Cho.  
  
The air was soon filled with a loud clatter, as nine teacups came crashing down on the table at once. "Fought?" asked the bridesmaids in unison.  
  
An alarmed expression spread on Cho's face, as she looked around the restaurant at all the people who were now glancing at their table. "Will you guys keep it down? Rita Skeeter could be lurking about." She then lowered her voice. "Anyway, we didn't have a big fight. It was just some silly argument that got started when I found a let-" She stopped talking as she looked at the faces of her bridesmaids, some of whom were not known for their discretion. "It was nothing. Just pre-wedding jitters. Everything is fine now."   
  
All at once, her bridesmaids exhaled loudly. Cho looked away, saying to herself over and over again that everything was resolved.  
  
  
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In her flat, Hermione had bound out of bed. Although only able to manage a few hours of sleep during that eventful night, she awoke unusually refreshed with a renewed spirit. She walked to her closet and looked inside at the few garments that she had not yet packed. She pushed the jeans and shirts out of the way and grabbed the large white box that contained her gown.   
  
She opened the box and pulled out the garment. It was just as she had last seen it: beautiful. The fabric had been painstakingly dyed several times to get it that perfect shade of periwinkle. Getting undressed, she put on the gown and the matching slippers. Strapless and adorned with beads about the bodice, the gown fit her like a glove.   
  
The elegant sight that greeted her was a sharp contrast from the way she normally appeared: her wild hair topped on her head and a quill tucked behind her ear. As she observed her image in the mirror, she had to admit that the gown was more suitable for a ball, than a wedding; she was taken aback when Harry suggested she get it.   
  
She had originally planned on getting a simple gown of light pink that didn't have any special embellishments; something like what Cho's bridesmaids would be wearing. But Harry told her she was not one of Cho's bridesmaids and should thus dress differently. "Plus, I want you to stand out from that nauseating sea of pink," he had added.   
  
So enthralled was she with her own image that she couldn't resist in twirling around in front of the mirror.  
  
"You look gorgeous," came a voice from behind her. Hermione turned around to find Penelope standing in the doorway, an amused smile on her face.  
  
A red flush crossed Hermione's cheeks when she thought of how silly her actions must have appeared, as though she were a small child playing dress up in her mother's clothes. "You really think so?" she asked sheepishly. "You don't think it's too much?"   
  
"No, it's perfect." Penelope walked to where the younger woman was standing and knelt down to pick up the shawl that was still in the box. She gently draped it over her friend's shoulders. She then leaned close to Hermione's ear and whispered, "Harry must really like you a lot to have bought it for you." She gently elbowed Hermione on the back and gave her a knowing look.  
  
Hermione stopped twirling and remained still. She then turned around to face the woman now sitting on her bed. "Don't say stuff like that. I can't think about that right now."  
  
"You'll get over it," said Penelope as she played with one of Hermione's pillows. "After a few weeks of teaching, you'll look back and say, `What was I thinking?'"   
  
The former Ravenclaw then fell back onto the bed. "Remember how you used to joke around and talk about stealing him away from Cho?" She placed her hand over her mouth as she began to laugh. After a few minutes, she sat up and shot Hermione a glance. "How come you weren't laughing? I was just messing around."  
  
Hermione looked down as she began to finger the beaded tassels on the shawl. "I did try to do something like that," she muttered in a low whisper.  
  
"Sure you did," Penelope replied under her breath. "You would never do something like that. And plus, you were only kidding." She waited for Hermione to confirm her statement, but the other young woman remained quiet. Penelope finally raised her head. "What exactly did you do?"  
  
"I wrote him a note saying he and I should explore what could have happened and slipped it into his coat pocket." She paused and examined the other woman's face to see if she was being judged, she wasn't. "But I took it out at the last moment."   
  
She walked over to the bed and sat down next to Penelope. "Do you think I'm a bad person for doing that?"  
  
"No. But I'm glad you didn't do it. It would have caused so much grief for everyone. First, you would have put Harry in an awkward position. And think how Cho would have reacted." Penelope lifted her hand to Hermione's head and twirled her strands of hair around her finger. "I know you love him, but he's still getting married to Cho. And regardless of what you or I may think, he seems madly in love with her."  
  
"I know," Hermione uttered. She was quiet for a few moments, and then... "Do you like her? Cho."  
  
Penelope shrugged her shoulders. "I don't really know her. We didn't socialize with one another at school. But from what I've heard and seen, she seems like a nice person."  
  
"So, she's good for Harry right?"  
  
Penelope wrapped her arm around the other woman's shoulders. "Yes, she's perfect for him. I watched their interactions at the party last weekend and I've never seen a couple that was sweeter to one another."   
Her hand ran up and down Hermione's arm as she tried to soothe her. "Harry is marrying someone whom he loves and will treat him well. That alone should make you a feel a little better. And besides," she paused long enough so she could make her way off the bed, "if you ever get lonely, there's always Ron."  
  
Hermione lifted a pillow and threw it at her, but missed.   
  
"Why don't you change out of that gown so we can get some food," said Penelope. Her hand shot down to her stomach. "I'm starving."  
  
Hermione got up from the bed and began to take off the gown. "Where's Hanna? I thought she was going with us."  
  
"She's preparing for school. We'll probably meet up with her at the wedding."  
  
Hermione's second roommate Hanna was also a teacher, but she dealt with younger students. She had recently gotten a job at the Charter House Preparatory School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for students aged five through ten. The term would be starting shortly, so Hannah was spending a great deal of time rushing to different stores to put together materials for her Showing First Signs of Magic class.  
  
  
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At the restaurant, which was only a few blocks away from their flat, the two women were surprised to find the place packed with people. After waiting thirty minutes, they were finally escorted to a small table near the front.   
  
Penelope looked across the room as she jealously eyed the patrons at the back. "That's not fair," she said in mock anger, "they get a nice view of the lake and all we get to look at is Bromwell's Bookstore."   
  
As they waited for their food of eggs and kippers, Penelope asked, "How was the stag party? I talked to poor Perce this morning and he said he had a miserable time. He said his brothers were picking on him the entire night; he couldn't take more than a couple of hours."  
  
"They were a bit brutal," Hermione said as she remembered the harsh jokes the twins and Ron had cracked about their brother's conservatism. A pained look crossed her face as she recalled how Percy had walked out of the restaurant early in the night, only to have Harry run after him and convince him to rejoin the group.   
  
"He can be a bit stuffy," Penelope admitted. "But there's more to him than people know. He also has a saucy side."   
  
Hermione narrowed her eyes in disbelief.   
  
"No, it's true," urged Penelope. "We're always sneaking around at work." Penelope worked in the Committee On Experimental Charms at the Ministry of Magic, just down the hall from Percy's department. "So, when the manager's lounge is empty, we always take the opportunity to have our lunch there. Except there's no food involved." A sly smile spread on her face. "Percy's a nibbler and this," she said pointing to her neck, "is his favorite thing to eat."   
  
Hermione looked down as she began to laugh at the proud smile on her friend's face. "That was more information than I really needed to-oh no." She jumped up from the table as her glass of orange juice spilled onto her jeans.   
  
She and Penelope did their best to clean up the majority of the spill, but there still remained a large blotch on her clothes. Hermione then trotted away in search of more napkins.  
  
  
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"Harry's such a fine catch," uttered one of Cho's friends, the only person at the table who was born to Muggle parents. "You're so lucky. He's going to be the star of the team and you'll be his glamorous wife. You guys will be like Posh and Becks," added the woman, referring the to ex-Spice Girl and her footballer husband.  
  
Cho narrowed her eyes. "What's a poshing becks?" Before the other woman could answer her question, Cho had already lost interest. She reached into the metal jar in front of her for another packet of sugar for her umpteenth cup of tea, but her fingers came into contact with nothing. "I can't drink tea without a little sweetness."   
  
She got up from her seat and walked to the utensil cart near the front of the restaurant. She looked around the cart and decided that she also needed another spoon as well - she had seen a streak on her other teaspoon. When she reached over to grab the utensil, she bumped into another person. "Pardon me," both ladies said in unison. Cho turned and found herself facing Hermione.   
  
There was a long silence as both women stared at one another. After what seemed like ages, Hermione muttered, "Hi."   
  
Cho said nothing. Then her eyes drifted down to Hermione's pants, eyeing the stain. She then met Hermione's gaze again, nodded politely and then walked away.  
  
Hermione stood where she was, tightly clutching the napkins in her hands as she watched Cho venture back to her table. She stain on her pants was getting worse as she now looked as though she had wet herself. She glanced around to make sure that no one was looking at her, and then uttered a spell that would get rid of the wetness. Although magic was not allowed at the restaurant - the owner wanted it to resemble a typical Muggle establishment - Hermione didn't want to walk around in wet jeans.  
  
Cho got back to her friends and sat down.   
  
"Who's that girl you were talking to?" asked a woman in a squeaky voice. "She looks oddly familiar."   
  
All of the other bridesmaids at the table had now turned around in their chairs so they could look at the two women at the other end of the room.  
  
"Will you guys stop staring?" Cho snapped. "And I wasn't talking to her."   
  
The rest of the women returned their attention back to their food, a dejected look on their faces as though an angry parent had just reprimanded them.  
  
"Anyway," Cho continued, "she's Harry's friend. The one I was telling you guys about. She's going to be his best...whatever."  
  
"Which one?" asked the maid of honor. "The big-haired girl or the other one?"  
  
"The first one," replied Cho.  
  
"She's really going to go through with it? When you first told me about it, I thought it was a joke. I can't believe she would actually agree to something like that. It just doesn't seem right."   
  
All the other women nodded in a collective agreement.   
  
"I think it's sweet," said a curly haired blonde, who unlike most at the table had not grown up in the upper echelons of society. "She must really mean a lot to him." She dreamily gazed out the window. But the sincere smile on her face was bashed when nine pairs of eyes shot her a stern look. She lowered her head and went back to her breakfast, not speaking again for the duration of the conversation.   
  
"Anyway," said the maid of honor, "will she be wearing a tux like Harry and Ron?"   
  
Everyone at the table chuckled.  
  
Cho took a long sip of her tea and placed the cup gently down on the table. All the other women watched her in anticipation, as they awaited her answer. Cho sat back in her chair and cleared her throat. "She's not wearing a tux. She's wearing a gown; the one that arrived at Harry's house."  
  
Everyone drew in a breath as they all remembered Cho telling them about the beautiful gown she had found at Harry's home. One fateful evening, Cho had gone to the mansion when she discovered a large bowed box sitting on the dining room table. She and Harry had had an argument the previous day and she assumed he was trying to make up with her.   
  
Her eyes had lit up when she saw the sparkling gown, causing her to think of ways in which she would reward her fiance that night for his exquisite taste. However, she was stunned to discover that the gown was not meant for her.  
  
"Hermione should never have accepted that gown," declared the maid of honor. "It's much too extravagant for her to wear. No one should be more dressed up than the bride. That's just rude." All the other women nodded in agreement - although they all wished that Cho had picked bridesmaids gowns for them that were more ornate; however, none of them would admit that to her face.  
  
Cho didn't say anything, just continued sipping her tea. When she looked past one of her bridesmaid's shoulder, her eyes met with Hermione's. Both women's gazes locked for a moment, and then simultaneously they both looked away.   
  
"We have to get going," said the maid of honor as she looked down at her watch. "We all have hair appointments in an hour." She and the other eight women gathered their belongings and prepared to leave.   
  
"Don't forget to arrive at my house at two o'clock for the pictures," said Cho.  
  
Just as most of the women were heading towards the door, one bridesmaid stayed behind and tapped Cho on the shoulder.  
  
"I can come over and help you get dressed," suggested the dejected curly haired blonde, as she attempted to make amends for her earlier approval of Harry choosing Hermione to be his best girl.  
  
Cho shot her a hard look. "Emma is already doing that," she said, referring to her maid of honor. "So, I have no need for your services."  
  
The bride to be was then left facing Hermione, as the other women were no longer there to block her view. As she peered across the room, she noticed that Hermione was also sitting by herself at the table.  
  
  
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Hermione looked down as she stirred her coffee, wondering if it was safe for her to look up. Cho had been staring at her for a few minutes, a hard unblinking stare that unnerved her, forcing her to lower her head. She wondered why she bothered to stay at the restaurant instead of going back to the flat with Penelope; she guessed it was curiosity about the other woman that forced her to remain in her seat. When she looked up once more, she saw Cho walking towards her table, carrying a cup in her hand.  
  
Cho stopped right in front of her. "Can I sit with you? My friends have all abandoned me."  
  
"Sure," Hermione muttered in a weak voice. She watched as the other woman put her drink down on the table and took the seat across from her. When Cho smiled at her, Hermione forced her lips into a tight grin.   
  
The two women had never been alone before, and it was now becoming a daunting task for Hermione, as she didn't know what to say. She looked down into her lap, as she was suddenly growing shy of the other woman. Something about the way Cho walked, and held herself and even her manner of speaking intimidated her.   
  
During social events and gatherings, Cho had always been cordial, but Hermione had sensed some indifference on the other woman's behalf. At the previous week's party at Harry's home, Hermione had hoped to steal some time away with the hostess for a chat, but something in Cho's eyes told her to keep her distance. There was always something in those eyes that communicated so much, even when her face stayed expressionless and placid.  
  
As Cho looked out the window, she had a strange look on her face, as if concentrating on something. Hermione tried to see what was outside that was of such great interest, but only saw pedestrians walking by. Perhaps she was thinking of how wonderful a life she had, thought Hermione.  
  
While the other woman was distracted, Hermione took the opportunity to look her over. Her eyes washed over Cho's creamy smooth skin, her beautiful almond shaped eyes and her silky black hair, which was up in a twist. She then looked at the other woman's ensemble; she had long admired Cho's sense of style, secretively that is.   
  
Hermione's hands went to her shirt as she tried to straighten out the creases, wishing she had taken more time to get dressed and hadn't worn her old jeans and t-shirt.   
  
She had become so engrossed in the other woman's attire that she didn't realize that Cho had stopped looking out the window and was now staring back at her.  
  
"Did your dress arrive safely at your place?" ask Cho, half startling Hermione out of her thoughts.   
  
"Yes it did." Hermione then tried to think of something to say to the other woman. "Congratulations," she finally said. "I never got a chance to say that to you during the party."   
  
As Hermione sat back in her chair, a strange awe filled her; that was the most they had ever said to one another during all of their years of being acquaintances. During school, they had not socialized with one another, as they both had different friends and were in separate houses. Even when Cho and Harry first started dating, Hermione was never in the picture much, as the couple always congregated with Cho's Ravenclaw friends.  
  
"I can't wait to go to the wedding," Hermione said excitedly, after gaining enough courage to continue talking. "I heard Harry has a surprise in store for everyone."  
  
"He says it's going to be spectacular," Cho replied. "But he won't tell me what it is." The woman then glanced out the window once more. "How was the stag party?" she asked after a long pause.  
  
"It was okay," murmured Hermione. She then creased her brows as she wondered how Cho knew about her presence at the previous night's celebration.  
  
Cho must have read her thoughts because she responded, "Harry told me."  
  
Hermione wondered if Cho was angry at her for attending the party, but nothing on the other woman's face communicated any displeasure.   
  
"I heard Ron entertained everyone with a dance," said the future Mrs. Potter.  
  
"He did." Hermione was about to say more, but hesitated - she didn't know if Cho was just making idle chit chat, or whether she really wanted to know more about the goings on at the previous night's party. But the welcoming smile on Cho's face told her she was interested. "It was a bit embarrassing though. I think he got up on the tables twice and even led everyone into some sort of dance he called `The Weasley Shuffle.'"   
  
A toothy grin spread on Hermione's face as she recalled the origins of the dance. "I think he started it in school. He always did it after every Quidditch match." She looked up at Cho. "Did you go to many of the matches--" She stopped talking when she remembered that Cho was seeker for Ravenclaw, up until her last year at school. "I'm sorry," Hermione said quickly.  
  
Cho managed a smile. "It's okay. And I am well acquainted with that dance of his."  
  
Although they both enjoyed talking about Ron's shenanigans, Hermione did not feel at ease in the other woman's presence; there seemed to be an unspoken tension radiating in the space between them.  
  
"I would have gone to the stag party myself," Cho began, "but I thought it would be an inappropriate place for a lady. It wouldn't seem right for me to be there with all those lads, interrupting their fun."   
  
Cho brought her cup to her mouth and took another sip. She was able to see the distraught look on Hermione's face. "Oh, I didn't mean it like that. Of course it's a lot different for you since you've spent a large part of your life with Harry and Ron. Harry is always telling me how the three of you spent every summer at the Weasley estate."   
  
Hermione lowered her head as a smile crept onto her face at the thought of the Burrow being referred to as an estate.   
  
"You must be an incredibly strong person," continued Cho, "to sit there all night and listen to their crude talk and whatnot. I could never handle that."  
  
Cho continued looking at Hermione, noticing how the other woman did not return her gaze. She picked up her drink, but seeing that the cup was empty, she pushed it away. "Of course some people would find you a bit strange, but to each his own."  
  
Hermione, who had recently found a great interest in her scrambled eggs, looked up for the first time in a few minutes and stared at the other woman. "What did you mean by that?" she asked slowly.  
  
Cho alternated from looking down at her hands to meeting the other woman's eyes and back again. "Never mind, I shouldn't have said anything at all. Just ignore me."  
  
Hermione sat back in her chair. "I want to know what people are saying."   
  
"It's just that...some people think you're a strange one for always wanting to hang around all the lads."  
  
"Ron, Harry and I have been going friends since we were eleven years old. They are like my family and I feel comfortable around them."  
  
"That's what I've always said," declared Cho, "but they never listen to me. They say you're always hanging around Harry for different reasons." She looked down at her perfectly manicured hands. "You should forgive me for bringing it up. I've been talking all morning with my bridesmaids and they always feel a need to tell me all the latest gossip."  
  
Hermione held her breath for a moment and sank low in her chair. "So, I'm the hot topic people are gossiping about?"  
  
"Not you per se, just your actions. I guess people are not used to seeing a woman like you. They all think that you're a pretty peculiar person."  
  
"What other reasons do people think I've been hanging with Ron and Harry?" Hermione asked, trying to keep her voice as neutral as possible.  
  
Cho waited a moment before answering - her nails had somehow fascinated to a great extent. "Well, I've heard talk that you're around Harry all the time because you're pining after him."  
  
Hermione sat up straight in her chair. Her heart was suddenly now pounding against her chest. Normally she would never care what people thought of her, but this revelation deeply concerned her; especially since it involved the future husband of the woman sitting across from her. "Why would I be pining over him?" She bit down on her lip when she noticed that there was some tentativeness in her voice.  
  
"I'd rather not say," stated Cho, as he eyes darted from Hermione to the window. "I don't want to upset you."  
  
Hermione shook her head. "I won't get upset."  
  
Cho carefully examined the other woman's appearance and then continued. "Word has it that you're jealous of me, jealous that I got Harry. You had him all to yourself for all those years, but never got an opportunity to get together with him."  
  
Hermione's eyes grew wide. "What?" she nearly shouted. Several customers from nearby tables turned to look at her.   
  
Cho was unflustered by Hermione's sudden outburst, as she remained still, her face and body language communicating calmness. Once Hermione had gotten over the embarrassment of being stared at by strangers, the future Mrs. Potter began to talk once more.  
  
"But I don't think any of that," Cho said casually. "I don't think you're pining over anyone. You've got far too much going on in your life to be lusting after someone else's fiance." She reached across the table and grabbed Hermione's hand in a reassuring manner.   
  
Hermione looked down at that hand as it grazed her skin. She wanted to pull away from the other woman's touch, but she couldn't move.  
  
Cho then snapped her finger at one of the waitresses who was walking by. "Can I have some more tea?" She looked over at the woman sitting across from her. "Would you like anything else Hermione?" Not getting any response from the other woman, she waved her hand in Hermione's face. "Hermione?"  
  
Hermione shook her head.  
  
Handed a new cup of tea, Cho poured cream into her drink. "Even though I don't believe any of the talk about you, it doesn't mean it's not hurtful for me to hear. I mean, how would you like to be in my shoes, having to listen to rumors that another woman is in love with your fiance? I already have a lot of stress on my plate, I don't need any other added pressures."  
  
After emptying three packets of sugar into her tea, Cho brought the cup to her lips; it was too hot. "Plus, things will get worse once he and I are married."  
  
"How do you mean?" Hermione dared to ask.  
  
"It just won't look right for you as a single woman to be seen out on the town with a married man." Cho watched as Hermione lowered her head, trying to hide the discomfort that was now developing on her face. "I of course would love it if you guys were together all the time. I'm glad he has you in his life. You're such a sensible and good influence on him." She flashed Hermione a warm smile.  
  
Hermione pulled back when she saw Cho smiling at her. That was the same smile the former Ravenclaw often gave Ron.  
  
"It was fine for you guys to hang out together when Harry and I were dating," Cho went on, "but things have now changed. It's going to look weird if there's three people in our marriage."  
  
Hermione folded her hands tightly in her hands. "I'll try to keep my distance from him once you guys are married, which won't be hard since I'll be at Hogwarts."  
  
"Hermione, don't stop your contact with Harry just because of other people's talk."  
  
"No," Hermione said, trying to control the crackling in her voice. "You're right, it'll look bad for me to be around a married man." She closed her eyes tightly, to control the swelling of emotions that was taking place, as she didn't want to lose control in front of Cho.  
  
"But, I hope all the talk doesn't discourage you from attending the wedding. I know that Harry went to great lengths to try to get you there."  
  
"Are you sure? I know that it had to be weird for you to hear about him making me his best man."  
  
Cho hesitated for a moment. "At first I was a little confused by it all. But later on, it really sunk in. Now, I think it's sweet." She began to trace her finger around the rim of her cup and gave Hermione a bold stare. "But..."  
  
Hermione was just about to bring her cup of coffee to her lips, but paused.  
  
"Harry and I were talking last night," Cho went on, "and we decided it would be best if you didn't stand by his side after all."  
  
Hermione planked the cup down hard onto the table. "But he was over at my flat telling me how much he wanted me there."  
  
"I know. But after a lot of talk, we decided that it would be best it you weren't his best...whatever you call it. It's nothing personal, it's just that your gown doesn't fit the color scheme of the wedding. All the other women will be wearing pink, and your blue dress just won't blend in."   
  
Hermione's heart was now beating fast as Cho's words washed over her. She stared at the other woman, her teeth clenching as she eyed how Harry's fiance showed no emotion when saying those words.  
  
"Why didn't Harry come over here and tell me that himself?" Hermione asked.   
  
"Well, he was a little tired. He's been running around all night long doing this and that. He just couldn't bring himself to do it."  
  
"Fine," Hermione said in a low whisper.   
  
"But you can still come to the wedding if you like. It would be a shame for you not to show off your new gown. It's such a beautiful garment and I don't think it should be locked away in the closet. Plus, I know that Harry went to great lengths to have it specially made just for you."  
  
"No, it's okay." Hermione opened her mouth to say something else, but stopped as she stared into the other woman's eyes. Something flickered in Cho's dark pupils that told her all she needed to know.   
  
Hermione slowly got up from her seat. She reached into her bag to pull out some money to pay for the meal, when the other woman held up her hand. "Don't worry about it honey," said Cho, "I've got it."  
  
As Hermione made her way out of the restaurant, Cho sat back in her seat and brought her tea to her lips once more; it was the perfect temperature. 


	6. You Should Have Told Me Yourself

Chapter 6: You Should Have Told Me Yourself  
  
  
Harry sat on his bed and looked across the room at the grandfather clock. He checked his wristwatch; the time was nearly noon. He then waited patiently for the clock to start chiming. And right at noon the bells began to ring a soft melody and the face of the clock stuck out his tongue at him. That sight never ceased to bring a smile to his face. He shook his head, amazed at the sense of humor of his former headmaster Dumbledore for sending him the instrument during his travels in Peru.  
  
But that smile was not everlasting, as he thought of how the clock would soon go into storage, like most of the furniture in the house. The whimsical instrument would surely be replaced with one of Cho's age-old family heirlooms. Harry took a look at his modestly furnished bedroom, thinking of how in a few days time the space will be filled with gilded and ornate furniture. Although he had lived in the home for only a few months, he had grown accustomed to the comfortable furnishings and decor, which much suited his personality.  
  
He got up from the bed and walked to the adjoining balcony. He glanced at the lake as the noonday sun reflected its rays from the surface. Leaning against the railing, he looked down at the grounds of his mansion, amazed that he was now the owner of such a large property - he will soon be co-owner, as Cho's name will be added to the deed later that day.  
  
Oh, glorious space, he thought as he took a deep breath of the perfumed air that wafted from the flower garden. Space was something that was denied to him as a child; first forced to live in a cupboard and then in a tiny bedroom the size of someone's walk-in closet.  
  
He had purchased the twenty-four acre Hertfordshire estate through the aid of Molly Weasley, who spent months trying to find a place that met his specifications. In the beginning, he thought the home was too ostentatious, thinking that a Tutor house in northern London with a garage and backyard would do for him and Cho. But he soon realized that he needed something larger to accommodate all the people in his life.  
  
He and Ron had initially planned on getting a flat together in Chelsea, but Harry's romantic liaison and eventual engagement to Cho had squashed those plans. In the end, a difference in living styles would have prevented him and his friend from experiencing domestic bliss, as Ron's newfound fame and wealth had made him very loud and gregarious.   
  
Harry stepped into the house and began to stroll down the halls, poking his head into four of the six guestrooms that occupied the top floor of the mansion. He opened the door to the light blue wallpapered room at the end of the hall, and eyed its canopy sleigh bed and silk sheets; that was the room Cho liked to sleep in when there was other company staying at the house. He shook his head, thinking of how she never seemed to answer him when he questioned her about this act.  
  
Although most of the guestrooms were now empty, they at one time had housed numerous members of the Weasley clan; Harry still couldn't get the stink bomb smell out to the room Fred and George once shared when they came over for an extended visit. A smile spread on his face as he thought of the family of redheads, who'd become his second family over the years. Molly Weasley would even check up on him from time to time to make sure he was eating well.  
  
Additionally, Author Weasley was a constant guest at the home, as he was fascinated with the Muggle appliances and devices that Harry owned, and would often ask the green-eyed man to instruct him on how to operate them. Mr. Weasley had recently found a growing interest in Harry's microwave. "It actually cooks food from the inside out?" he would ask Harry with a look of sheer fascination on his face. During his most recent visit, the man spent nearly an hour watching food blow up in the contraption, his eyes large with amazement and delight as food splattered on each wall of the microwave.  
  
Harry walked down the spiraling staircase to the first floor and went to the servant quarters. He wrapped lightly on the door, but there was no answer. He opened the door and saw Dobby asleep on the floor in front of his fireplace, his glittery sock-covered feet sticking out from under his blanket. Although the house-elf possessed a large bed of his own, Harry often found him slumbering on the floor. The young man closed the door.  
  
Although Dobby helped him with his fan mail, and ran a few errands, Harry did not look at him as a servant. The house-elf was only there for added companionship and was free to do as he pleased. Cho found this to be a weird arrangement, since her own house-elf had responsibilities that were clearly defined. And that Harry paid Dobby a salary and allowed the house-elf to travel to Hogwarts to visit his lady friend Winky baffled her.  
  
The green-eyed man walked to the other side of the house to the kitchen to make himself some coffee. As he sipped on the hot concoction, he looked down the hall to where one of the downstairs guestrooms was situated. He put down his cup and was about to head down the hall, when he caught sight of his visitor from the window.   
  
Harry opened the sliding glass doors leading to the back veranda and walked towards the man in the wheelchair, who had an entranced look on his face as he stared at the lake. Remaining quiet, the seated man took Harry's hand in his and gave it a squeeze.  
  
Harry looked down at Sirius' face as he felt his godfather's fingers caressing his skin. The older man's face was not as full as before, but he looked better than the state he had been in several weeks prior. Harry looked away as those memories came back to him: the call from the department head telling him to get to the hospital immediately, seeing his godfather's mangled body on that stretcher, having to decide how long to keep him on life support. Harry shook his head, trying to chase these thoughts away.  
  
"Have you been here long?" the young man finally asked.   
  
"I apparated here last night." His godfather looked up at him. "I just had to get away from those white walls."  
  
A disappointed look grew on Harry's face, as he was now regretting sleeping in late. "I wish you would have woken me up. It would have given us a chance to chat."  
  
"I saw you when you apparated home," said Sirius, " but you seemed so tired, I didn't want to disturb you." The man leaned back into his wheelchair and looked out into the horizons. Somehow guessing that Harry was going to say something else, he squeezed his godson's hand again. "Don't worry about it. You're a young man and need all the sleep you can get."   
  
"Did you find everything all right? Did you have trouble--"  
  
Sirius held up his hand at the young man. "I'm fine. And yes, I found the extra towels and everything. Plus, I had Dobby offering me things every five seconds. I was only able to convince him to get some sleep a few hours ago."  
  
Harry turned and looked back through the sliding glass door towards the kitchen; he didn't remember seeing any dirty cups or plates in the sink. "Did you get something to eat?"   
  
Sirius nodded his head. "I found some stuff in the kitchen earlier." He paused and then glanced up at Harry with an amused twinkle glimmering in his eyes. "There was enough food in there to feed the whole nation."  
  
An embarrassed grin spread on the young man's face as he looked down at his shoes. "I don't know why I do that. I usually end up throwing most of it in the trash anyways. I guess I don't ever want to go hungry again." The smile on his face faded as flashbacks of his childhood played out in his mind. His eyes become downcast as he thought back to those years spent in the Dursley home; having to survive on morsels of cheese stolen from the kitchen and the sleepless nights spent holding his growling stomach.   
  
Seeing the look on Harry's face, Sirius wrapped his arm around his godson's waist and pulled him close to his side. "Let's go for a walk. I think a trot around the garden will do us both some good. Plus, I need the exercise."   
  
Harry took his godfather's hands in his, slowly pulling the man out of his wheelchair and onto his feet. The man then draped his arm around Harry's shoulder as they made their way around the grounds.   
  
"This is a really nice place you've got here," said Sirius, looking around the estate. "You've really done well for yourself."  
  
Sirius began to drag his feet as the two men continued down the tree-lined stone path. Harry looked up at him when he noticed the man making wheezing noises. "Are you all right? We can sit down if this is too much for you."  
  
"No, I'm fine. I just have to get used to the physical activity." Sirius took a deep breath. "It feels really good to be on my feet again."   
  
Harry wrapped his arm around the man's back. "Everyone will get such a kick out of seeing you at the wedding. I can't wait to see their faces when they see you standing up. You'll have to thank Snape for getting that potion to you."  
  
Harry looked at his godfather, who now had an unpleasant expression on his face. That was the same look he made at the hospital when he was told that it was none other than the Potions Master who delivered the vial of antidote to the nursing staff. Sirius had initially refused to take the medicine, saying, "I'd rather be crippled for life than be in that man's debt." But the look on Harry's face had encouraged him to put past hatreds aside, for the moment.  
  
"I'll thank him," Harry said quickly. "You don't have to." He then thought of how he would go about completing the arduous task, as numerous attempts to contact the elusive professor had already been unsuccessful. Several of the letters he had already sent had been returned unopened.  
  
As the two men walked around the flower garden Sirius said, "Why don't we go down to the lake? I love it down there."  
  
"You've already been there?"  
  
Sirius lifted his head to the sun, letting the rays hit his face. "Yes. I couldn't help but run around this morning. It felt really good to be out in the open." In his animal form, Sirius was unaffected by the Dark Wizard's curse and could move around freely. "After spending two months in that hospital," he continued, "I really needed to get some fresh air."   
  
"Did you see the guesthouse?" asked Harry, pointing to the Victorian house situated on the outskirts of the lake. "It's really roomy in there; it has three bedrooms. I hope you like the location. It's far enough away from the main house so you can have your privacy just in case you decide to invite a certain blonde nurse over for a visit." Harry nudged him in the side.   
  
Sirius gave him a hard look, and then glanced away, hiding the smile developing on his face. "You're a cheeky one," he said, finally letting out a laugh.  
  
"Anyway, I'm having some ramps put in there so you can move around while you regain your streg--"  
  
"You don't have to do this. I can stay at the medical center. It was actually quite comfortable."  
  
Harry stopped walking and looked at him. "Yes, I have to do this. This is the kind of thing family members do for each other. And I don't want you staying miles away at some center. I want you close by, so I can keep an eye on you. I don't want to rely on strangers to take care of you."  
  
"I'll be perfectly fine in a couple of months. I just need to develop the muscles in my legs again, and I'm doing that. I don't want you to think that you're responsible for me." He turned his head and looked the other way. "I've already been a big burden on you. You're always helping me; bringing me food when I was in hiding, clearing my name, now this. You're a young man and I'm sure you don't want your godfather hanging around all the time."  
  
Harry glanced at Sirius' eyes for a moment to check if the man was serious about what he was saying. Unfortunately, his godfather looked away too quickly. "Don't say that," Harry muttered. "And you're not a burden. I want you around. I need you around me." He directed his godfather to an iron bench, where they both sat down. "I don't want my children to grow up thinking their father has no family of his own. With you around, I don't feel like an orphan."  
  
"But you already have a family, the Dur-"  
  
"Don't say their name," Harry nearly shouted. His eyes dropped to his hands when he observed the startled expression on the other man's face. He then lowered his voice to a whisper. "You're my family. You're the closest thing to a father that I have."  
  
Harry then felt Sirius' arm tighten around him. Glancing at his godfather's face, their eyes locked onto one another. Harry was able to detect some glistening in the other man's eyes. Both men looked away, as they feared that any longer a glance would result in embarrassing consequences for either of them.   
  
"What about Cho?" Sirius asked after they had enough time to calm their aroused emotions. "What does she think about your plans?"  
  
Harry continued to look straight ahead, not acknowledging that his godfather had spoken.  
  
"Harry," Sirius said again.   
  
Harry lifted his hand and began to rub his neck. "She doesn't know yet." His godfather opened his mouth to say something, but Harry continued to talk before he had a chance to utter a word. "But don't worry, things will work out. She'll understand."   
  
Sirius' brows were still creased as he looked at the young man. "I thought you already told her."  
  
"I will," Harry mumbled under his breath. He then fixed his eyes on a squirrel as it drank from the birdbath. But even the small animal's activities could not distract Harry from the fierce stare he was now receiving from the other man. After several minutes of heavy silence, he said, "Please don't give me that look. Cho and I will discuss this later and I just know she'll be happy with the idea." He gave his godfather a determined gaze. "Regardless of what she thinks, you're here to stay. You almost got taken from me, but not anymore."  
  
Sirius managed a smile. "How did you grow up to be such a good kid?" He brought his hand onto Harry's neck. "Your parents would be proud of the person you've become."  
  
"Hey Harry," came Seamus' voice as it echoed through the air.   
  
Harry turned towards the house and could see a small figure waving at him from the open doors.   
  
Sirius removed his arm from around the young man's shoulders. "Why don't you go join your friends? I'll be fine." He got up from the bench without any assistance and took a few steps from the young man to prove he could cope on his own. "I'm capable of walking around by myself."  
  
"Okay. But when you come back to the house, make sure you're in dog form. I don't want the guys to know you can walk yet." Harry stayed by and watched as his godfather walked away. After he had gotten ample demonstration that the man was sturdy on his feet, he headed back to the mansion.   
  
All the men were congregated in the living room, as Justin showed them how to turn on the television without using magic. "See, this is what's called a remote control," said Justin, lifting the instrument and showing it to everyone. "You use it to change channels."   
  
The group of men seemed unimpressed. "Big deal," said Seamus. "You could just as easily use your wand."  
  
Seamus and Justin stopped talking and poked one another when Harry walked in through the sliding glass doors. Everyone grew silent, as they watched Harry's every move.   
  
"What?" asked Harry as he felt everyone's eyes on him.  
  
"Look at that strut," commented Justin. "That is the walk of a man who got some from his lady last night."  
  
Harry rolled his eyes as the men erupted into laughter.   
  
The loud laughing startled Ron out of his daze as he lay across one of the sofas, his long legs dangling off the edge. His eyes covered by dark sunglasses, he began to rub his temples. He made a moaning noise as he turned to the other men. "What the hell are you guys laughing at?"  
  
"Harry had a little rendezvous with Cho last night," said Seamus. "And I bet you a million galleons that they did the deed."  
  
Normally that statement would have peaked Ron's interest, causing him to stand up in his seat - headache or no headache - and cross-examine his friend for the tidbits. But he merely glanced at Harry for a moment, and then looked away.   
  
Harry looked around for a place to sit, before settling down on the floor next to Neville's seat. He lightly touched the round-face man on the knee. "Thanks so much for taking him home. How was he?"  
  
Neville lowered his voice and said, "He threw up on me twice. But other than that, it was a pretty calm night. He just fell asleep the moment I got him to my house."  
  
Harry furrowed his brows. "Your house? Why did you guys go to your place?"  
  
"Ron has a spell on his place that keeps people from apparating in there. And he lost his key, so we had to go to my place."  
  
Harry turned back to the redhead who was now moaning every so often when anyone dared speak over a whisper around him. "Ron, why aren't people allowed to apparate into your place?"  
  
"Because too many fans were popping up in my living room. It was cool when I had the pretty busty girls appearing out of nowhere, but then I got some ugly girls there as well."  
  
"You can program the spell so only your friends and family members can apparate."  
  
"Yeah, I know. But I don't want my mum coming in there and finding me in a compromising position. What if I'm fuc--with a girl on my living room couch and my mum just happens to appear with my laundry, as she always does? That would be really embarrassing."  
  
Harry gave Ron a long look and then shook his head. "Anyway, did you get some rest?"  
  
"Not really," said Ron. "It was kinda hard to sleep with Neville's headboard banging against the wall."  
  
"What?" Seamus asked excitedly. Sensing there would be some sex in the explanation, he and Justin both scrambled from their seats and sat at the foot of the couch.   
  
Ron surveyed his audience, who were both on the floor, eagerly waiting for him to talk. "Well, it seems like Harry is not the only person who was with a girl last night. Neville also had some company."  
  
Neville slouched down in his seat. "Don't listen to him." He looked around; all eyes were on the young man with the oversized shades.  
  
"Anyway," continued Ron, "Padma came over last night. And I could hear them going at it."  
  
"We weren't doing anything. We were just laying on the bed, talking."   
  
Ron sat up and gingerly took off his sunglasses. He squinted and made a face when the sun's rays washed across his face. He held his hands over his eyes before lying back down on the couch once more. He glanced at Neville through reddened eyes. "If you weren't doing anything, how come I could hear the bedsprings?"  
  
"My bed creaks," Neville responded.  
  
"Neville don't lie. Your walls are pretty thin and I could hear everything. You must have been giving it to her really good because I could hear her moaning."  
  
Neville let an audible choking noise escape from his mouth and brought his hands to his reddening face.  
  
"Towards the end of it," continued Ron, "she began to scream. 'Oh Neville,'" Ron said, imitating the young woman's shouts of passion. The redhead lifted his pelvis off of the couch and began to rub his hands up and down his chest in a suggestive manner. "'Give it to me hard.'"  
  
Harry lowered his head; his face a mixture of disgust and fascination as his friend continued to imitate what he assumed was happening in the next room, complete with grunts and pelvic thrusts.  
  
"'Faster,'" Ron went on. "'Give it to me with your three inch--'"  
  
A pillow came flying at Ron and hit him on the nose. Ron finally stopped moaning and put on his shades once more. Justin and Seamus kept their hands over their mouths, exchanging looks with one another and glancing over their shoulder at Neville. Everyone seemed to have a smile on his face; even Dean, who had spent the majority of the time with a dour expression, was smiling.   
  
"Seems like our Neville is quite the stud," said Ron, as he tipped off an invisible hat to the other man.  
  
Harry looked over at the embarrassed man, as he pondered whether the story was real. Ron's tales were always immersed with half-truths, no matter how entertaining they might be. Harry considered if Neville was capable of bringing a woman to those sexual heights. Maybe, he thought. The round-faced man had grown slightly more confident in himself and had improved physically, so it was possible. Harry looked away, not wanting to think anymore about it.  
  
Wanting to take the focus away from the man sitting next to him, Harry got to his feet and said, "All the tuxes got delivered last night." He went to the corner of the room and picked up the boxes and began to hand them out to the five men. "I think you'll find everything you need inside: the tuxes, some toiletries and shoes."  
  
All the men began to open their boxes, except for Ron and Dean. Harry turned towards his redheaded friend. "Why aren't you wearing a tux?"  
  
A slight smile formed on Ron's lips. "I have my own outfit at home."  
  
A weary look spread across Harry's face. He approached the sofa and sat on the floor next to Ron. "Please tell me that the outfit you're wearing resembles a tux in some shape or form. Please."   
  
Ron placed a limp hand on his friend's shoulder. "Don't worry," he said casually. "It'll be spectacular."   
  
Harry continued to stare at him, but soon gave up after realizing Ron was not going to volunteer any more information. He glanced over at Neville, who was still slumped over in his chair as he avoided Justin and Seamus' stares and giggles. "Neville, I have some news that might cheer you up."   
  
Neville threw him a hopeful glance.  
  
"Snape isn't coming to the wedding. He was supposed to send in his RSVP by this morning, and I still haven't received anything." Harry discerned how the other man's face became relaxed, almost happy.   
  
"But knowing Snape," said Ron, "he'll show up unexpectedly, curse everyone with a bad case of diarrhea and leave."  
  
Everyone slowly turned in his direction and gave him a hard look. "That is the most disgusting thing I've ever heard," said Harry as he made a face.  
  
"But it's true."  
  
Harry waited several minutes until the ghastly image had vanished from everyone's minds before talking again. "I was thinking we could leave here for the ceremony at four. That will give us plenty of time to-"  
  
A ringing noise began to drift from the kitchen. "I guess the food's here," said Justin. He tilted his head towards the ceiling and began to sniff the air. "And from the smell of it, I can tell you ordered it from the Hogsmeade Corner Bakery." He turned and looked at Seamus, who was starting to get up from the floor. The two men stared at each other for a moment, before they both raced into the kitchen.   
  
Ron rolled onto his side and glanced at Neville. "Could you bring me a sandwich while you're in there?"   
  
Neville looked him up and down. "Why can't you get it?"  
  
"Well, I'm suffering from a hangover. I might trip and knock over the trays of food. And I don't think you'd want that on your conscious."  
  
Neville sighed loudly and got up from his seat. "Fine," he muttered as he headed to the kitchen.  
  
Harry hit Ron on the shoulder. "You really shouldn't take advantage of him like that. He helped you out last night."  
  
"I'm not taking advantage of him. He likes doing stuff for me. He's better than having a house-elf." Ron turned and looked at the entrance leading to the kitchen "What's taking him so long? He's been gone for ages. I think he's starting to rebel." He got to his feet, placing his hand on Harry's head for leverage and messing up the green-eyed man's hair in the process.   
  
"Oh little house-elf," Ron shouted as he staggered to the kitchen. "Your master is very upset with you."  
  
Harry looked around the room; besides Ron's, Dean's box lay unopened. He got up from the floor and went to join the others. He spotted Dean sitting at the dining room table, stabbing his food with his knife. Harry took his seat across from him.   
  
"You didn't even look inside your box," commented the green-eyed man. "There's a bottle of that cologne that you like so much in there and some-"  
  
"I'm not going," Dean mumbled as he stared down at his food.  
  
Harry leaned forward in his chair. "Why not?  
  
"I just don't think I should." The young man didn't look at Harry as he talked.   
  
"If you think I'm mad about you liking Cho, don't. I'm okay with that. I would really like you there."  
  
Dean stayed quiet for a moment. "I'd rather not. It's nothing against you." Finally placing his fork down on the table and pushing the plate away, he sat back in his chair. "Did you go to her place?"  
  
"Yeah." Harry carefully watched the expression on Dean's face as it began to change. "But we didn't do anything," he added quickly. "We just talked about the wedding."   
  
"Why should I care? It's really none of my business what you guys do." Dean began to drum his nails on the table, his tempo growing faster and faster. After a moment, he stopped and looked up at Harry. "Does she still have that stuffy old house-elf Olga?"  
  
"Yes," said Harry. "Good old Olga--" He stopped talking. "How do you know about her?"  
  
"I've met her a couple of times."   
  
Harry's mouth opened slightly as he eyed the other man.  
  
"Don't worry," said Dean, "I was only at her house for a short time. Plus, her parents didn't really like me." He got to his feet and stretched. "Hey, do you mind if I take a nap in one of the guestrooms for a little bit? I still haven't recovered from last night."  
  
Harry shook his head. He then watched as the other man made his way down the hall, finally choosing the room overlooking the orchard for his nap. Harry stayed in his seat for a long time as he thought back to what Dean had said. He then got up and joined the other guys near the bar.   
  
"I don't really remember what happened," Justin was saying to the other men. "Everything is pretty much a blur after we left the club--by the way, Ron you missed quite a show." He slapped the redhead on the back. "All the ladies were asking about you."  
  
Ron moved away and gave him a hard look. "Could you please not hit me? I still feel a little nauseous." He placed his hands on either side of the bar and lowered his head.  
  
Harry touched the other man's shoulder. "Are you all right? You don't look well."  
  
"I'm fine," Ron muttered. "I'm just a little woozy. I think I need to lay down for a minute." He turned to Neville. "Do you mind escorting me back to the couch?"  
  
Neville huffed loudly, but then approached the other man, letting him wrap his arm around his shoulder. He struggled to get the redhead to the living room, bumping into several walls in the process.   
  
Harry looked down at this watch. He had two hours before the Weasley clan and the photographer would be congregating at his home. If he wanted to complete his two visits, he would have to do it now. "I have to get going," he said.   
  
"You getting cold feet?" asked Justin.  
  
Seamus walked to his side and whispered into Harry's ear, "If you've decided to call it off, you could always hide out at my place. I won't tell anyone." He then pulled back from the man and winked at him.  
  
Harry playfully pushed him away. "No, I'm not having second thoughts. I just need to run a few errands."  
  
Neville walked into the kitchen and picked up a plate. The other three men eyed him as he began filling the plate with assorted sandwiches and desserts. Seeing the way everyone was glaring at him, the round-faced man said, "No, I haven't fallen off of my diet. This stuff is for Ron. I guess he's not feeling nauseous after all."  
  
Harry watched as Ron's house-elf went back to the living room with the food. He bid Seamus and Justin goodbye before disapparating .   
  
  
***********************************************************************  
  
  
Normally, Harry would not have apparated into someone's home without any advance notice, but he didn't think she would mind. Besides, he didn't have much time for formalities, for he had to rush over to Cho's before the photographers reached her house.  
  
The flat seemed eerily quiet. He had expected the three girls to be bustling around the place as they prepared themselves for the ceremony, but he found himself standing in the living room alone. The only noise in the room was the creaking of the floorboards and the ticking of the clock hanging on a nearby wall.   
  
"Hi," he said to the cat lying in the chair in front of him. The cat lifted his head when he heard the man's voice and casually looked him up and down. Deeming Harry uninteresting, he went back to his task of licking his paws.  
  
Harry made his way down the narrow hallway to Hermione's bedroom. He stood before the door and stared at it for a moment. He was about to knock, when the door creaked open. He stayed where he was, lest he walked in and saw her getting dressed. "Hey Herm," he said, making his presence known. No one answered.   
  
He took a quick glimpse into the room and that's when he saw her laying on her bed. He approached her bed and sat down next to her. "Herm," he whispered. The woman did not respond. He leaned down and looked at her sleeping face. His hand then brushed against her cheek as he pushed away the few strands of hair that were stuck to her skin.   
  
Harry got up from the bed and prepared to leave, but something kept him put. He looked around the nearly empty room until he spotted her small vanity in the corner. He approached the table and looked down at all the feminine beauty products that were scattered about. He picked up her hairbrush and pulled out a long strand of hair that was stuck to the bristles. The wooden brush was a lot simpler than the silver-plated one that Cho possessed. He placed the instrument back in its place.  
  
He then reached for the tube of lipstick that lay nearby. He opened the top and twisted the handle, eyeing the light pink color of the cosmetic. When he had seen all of the lipstick that he needed to see, he reached for her bottle of perfume. The small glass jar was still full, although he had given it to her the previous year. At school, he had often witnessed her spraying the fragrance on a tissue, before lightly dabbing the paper on her neck and wrists.  
  
He brought the bottle to his nose and closed his eyes. That was the same fragrance she had worn the night before. Memories of their street encounter flooded his mind as he continued to take deep breaths from the bottle. The sights and sounds that were present at the exact moment when she kissed him came rushing back, so strongly that he nearly let the bottle slip from his fingers. He opened his eyes as the images became too much for him to bear, and placed the bottle back in its place.   
  
As he thought of leaving, he heard the bed behind him creaking. He turned around.   
  
Hermione was sitting up on her bed, her head resting against the headboard, staring at him. He eyed her face, noticing that her hair was a lot neater than it had been when she was asleep; she had clearly been awake for some time. He then thought back to his exploration of her possessions, wondering if she had been witness to the activities. If she had, she did not give anything away, as her eyes stayed expressionless.   
  
"I just came by to see how you're doing," Harry said after a few minutes. "I was just about to leave. But I guess I'll stay, now that you're awake." He eyed her, observing the jeans and t-shirt that she had on. "How come you're not dressed?"  
  
He then stared at the gown as it lay on a pile on the floor. He picked up the dress and held it close to his face, examining the little beads. "Didn't it fit? I saw you try it on at the store and you looked gre--"  
  
"Why didn't you tell me yourself?" she asked.  
  
"Tell you what?"  
  
She crossed her arms tightly against her chest. "Don't play dumb with me." Her eyes narrowed, a matter of all seriousness in their depths. "You could have come over here and told me yourself that you changed your mind."  
  
Harry's head was still lowered as he looked at the dress, remembering the sight of her in the garment at the dress shop.   
  
"Why did you even bother coming over here last night?" she asked.  
  
"To ask you to come to the wedding of course." He placed the dress gently on the back of a chair and turned around again as he fumbled with her possessions once more. He looked over at the bottle, as the fragrance that lay within was suddenly becoming unbearable. He pushed the glass container away.  
  
He picked up a small metal contraction that was lying near his hands and brought it to his face. "What in the world is this?" He twirled the instrument around to figure out what it could be, but was left with no answers.  
  
Hermione swiftly grabbed the eyelash curler out of his hands. "Will you cut that out?"   
  
Harry took a step backwards and drew his brows together. "Cut what out?" He observed the tense look on her face and her narrowing eyes. "What's wrong?"  
  
"You know exactly what's wrong." She placed the curler back on her vanity, a little too forcefully because the table began to shake. "You coming here last night gave me the impression that you cared whether or not I was at the wedding. Like it meant so much to you."  
  
She sat down on the edge of her bed and lowered her head. "I spent all last night thinking I was really special to you," she continued. "But how fast your decisions can be changed."  
  
"What are you talking about?"  
  
Her head began to slowly lift and she shot him a hard stare.  
  
Harry's body tensed. He had seen the look often during their years together; it always appeared when she and Ron were involved in one of their shouting matches. His first response was to try to move away, as he often knew what would accompany that stare.  
  
But she did not get up from the bed. "You should have come over here," she said, "and told me in person instead of sending her to do it. You were too tired, my ass. When you were over here, you didn't look tired." She gave him a long look before switching positions on her bed and sitting with her back turned to him.   
  
"Wait a minute," said Harry. "Are we having a fight?" He stared at her back for some answers, but she did not turn around. He made his way towards her and stood behind her for several minutes, before bringing his hand down on her shoulder. "Herm, what's--"  
  
She pushed his hand away. "It would have been better to hear it from you." She turned around and looked up at his face. "Don't you think I understand the kinda pressures you're under? I would have understood perfectly well if you told me in person. I know that your priorities now lie with your wife. I would not have been mad with your decision."  
  
The bedsprings creaked noisily as he sat down next to her. He was in the process of wrapping his arm around her, when he stopped himself. "What did I do to make you this upset?"  
  
"It's not what you did, but what you didn't do." She shot up from the bed and began to walk around her room, alternating from wringing her hands to throwing him hard glances. "It's always your inaction that is at the root of every problem."  
  
"My inaction? What do you call last night? I came here to ask you--let me rephrase that; I came here and practically begged you to come today."  
  
"You did one thing right," she scoffed. "Big deal."   
  
Harry followed her with his eyes as she walked to the mirror. When he looked at her reflection, she scowled at him and quickly moved to her window.   
  
"Do you know how humiliated I was this morning?" she asked. "It was devastating enough having to initiate a conversation with her. Hearing the news from her hurt me so much. The way she said it." She glanced over her shoulder at him. "Why are you looking at me like you don't know what on earth I'm talking about?"  
  
"Because I don't know what on earth you're talking about," he replied matter-of-factly.  
  
She whirled around. "You're always doing this. I tell you the obvious and you pretend not to know anything. Just like last night, when you first came here. You were sitting there denying everything between us. And here you are doing the same thing, pretending you know nothing."  
  
He opened his mouth to say something, but she held up her hand. "But it's okay. I now understand that's how you get on with your life. You just pretend everything is fine. But let me tell you something Harry Potter...."   
  
She began to inch towards him, her finger pointed at his face. "If you want to tell me something," she continued, "you better do it yourself. You don't send your significant other to do the dirty work for you."   
  
He moved his head to the side, lest her finger made contact with his face. He then grabbed her hand and tried to pull her down onto the bed, but she moved away from him.   
  
She stomped to the corner of the room and grabbed the dress from the back of the chair. She lifted the garment over her head as though she was going to fling it across the room, but hesitated. She brought the dress down again and admired it. When she lifted her head, her eyes locked with Harry's for a brief moment.  
  
Harry watched as she knelt down and grabbed something from the floor. Before he could react or move out of the way, a shoe came whizzing by the side of his face. He flinched and lifted his hand to his face when the pointy heel made contact with his cheek.   
  
She was holding the second shoe in her hand, but let it drop to the floor and hurried to his side. "Did I hurt you?" she asked. "I didn't mean for it to actually hit you." Her fingers traveled along his skin, as she inspected the superficial scrape on his cheek.  
  
Seeing that she was preoccupied, Harry grabbed hold of her wrist and squeezed hard - not enough to hurt her, but enough to prevent her from walking away. "What on earth is going on with you?" he asked in a tight voice. His body trembled, as he tried hard to suppress his anger. "I've come here to try to talk to you and you start acting like a maniac."  
  
Hermione looked down at his hand and then at him. He immediately released her arm. She walked to the far end of the room and leaned against the wall, her eyes downcast.  
  
"I know why you're mad at me," he said. He watched as she lifted her head and bestowed on him a condescending look. "I guess things happened really fast last night; I came over here and we started talking about the past, but never got a chance to resolve it. But I swear that once I get back from my honeymoon, you and I can talk about it."  
  
He examined her face for some reassurance that she accepted his plans, but her features were getting more and more tense.   
  
"I'm sorry for leaving you the way I did last night," Harry went on. "I should have at least said goodbye, instead of disappearing like I did. But I had to hurry back to Cho."  
  
"Is that when you guys had your little discussion about me?" she asked.  
  
"How did.yeah."  
  
"Who brought it up?"  
  
Harry looked down at his hands. "I did. She was asking me if I was hungry and I told her how I ate at your place. And that's when we starting talking about you coming to the wedding."  
  
Hermione's body slid down along the wall, until she was sitting with her knees to her chest. "Is that when you guys made your decision," she asked, looking down at the floor.   
  
"Yeah." Harry got up from the bed and sat down on the floor next to her. He flung an arm around her shoulders and looked down at her face. With his free hand, he moved her hair away as it obscured his view of her eyes. "Why are you still upset with me? I told you everything that happened."  
  
"I know." She raised her head and glanced at him. "That's the part that upsets me the most. That you can sit there and tell me about your chat with Cho without a shred of sadness or remorse in your voice shocks me."  
  
She brushed his hand off her shoulder and stood up. "And all this time, I was thinking it was her idea. But I guess it was yours." She walked around the room, collecting the gown and the shoes. She placed all the items into the box. "Here you go. All the things are inside. Now you can give it to your wife, but I doubt she would want secondhand goods."  
  
"But you need all these things for the wedding," said Harry. He took the box, and looked at the shimmering articles inside. "I hope you don't think they're too extravagant for the occasion. "   
  
He placed the box on the bed and walked towards Hermione. He brought his hands to her face, as he pushed her hair behind her ears. "You're gonna look absolutely dazzling tonight. But I think there's something missing." He reached into the pocket of his pants and pulled out a small box. "I bought these a couple of days ago. I thought they would go well with the outfit."   
  
She took the small container from his hands and flipped open the lid.  
  
Harry stood by as he watched the way she eyed the gift. He rocked on his feet, as he awaited her response. She looked up at him and then down at the gift. Although she didn't say anything and her face remained expressionless, her excitement was clearly visible in her eyes. A smile crept onto Harry's face. He took the earrings out of the box and gingerly positioned them onto her ears.   
  
Hermione went to the mirror and eyed the sapphire studs. Harry walked up behind her. "I knew they would make the outfit complete." He placed his hands on her shoulders and watched as they jewels glittered. "Now, why don't you start getting dressed, so you'll be ready in time for the pictures?"  
  
"I'm not going," she muttered.  
  
"Don't be silly. Of course you are." He began to make his way to the door, as he was now late for his other visit. "I was thinking the photographer could take your picture near the lake. Wouldn't that make a great backdrop?" He looked back at her; she hadn't moved from her spot. "Why are you still standing there?"  
  
"Because I'm not going." She picked up the box of clothes and handed it back to him. "I just can't go, it'll be too embarrassing. Plus, people will be asking me questions."  
  
"Herm, I want you there. What could have made you change your mind about attending?"  
  
"What?" Her face twisted with frustration. "How can I possibly attend after this morning? I'll be made a laughing stock."  
  
"Laughing stock? No one will be laughing at you." He reached out for her arm, but she pushed him away.  
  
"I just can't bear to go," she uttered. "Why can't you understand that? You and your future wife have put me in this unfortunate position."  
  
He continued to stare at her, not knowing what to say to relieve her stress and only comprehending half of what she was on about. Those eyes staring back at him were so similar to the ones he'd seen last night, when her distress was at a high. He tried to say something, but no words came to mind.  
  
"Just leave me alone," she finally said after an extended period of silence. "I'm not going and that's that. But don't take it personally now. Just like I didn't take it personally this morning."  
  
Before Harry could say anything, she pushed him out of her room and shut the door in his face. 


	7. I've Been in Secret Relationships Too

Chapter 7: I've Been in Secret Relationships, Too   
  
  
When Harry apparated into the sitting room, he was taken aback by the loud noises and chattering that suddenly enveloped him and overwhelmed his senses, causing him to take a step backward as his ears adjusted to the clamor. The bridesmaids were situated on the floor in the corner of the room, talking loudly amongst themselves. But they soon quieted down when the maid of honor stood up and began to construct them on the proper way to walk down the aisle.   
  
"I want you all to take small lady-like steps," she said. "I don't want you to run down the aisle like some race horse, the way Gemma was doing during the rehearsal." She swiveled her head and glared at the redhead sitting down on her right.  
  
Harry quietly crept to the doors leading to Cho's bedroom, making sure not to step on the pink silk gloves and rose bouquets that were lying on the floor. He also took care not to draw any attention to himself. As he pushed back the sliding glass doors, a raven-haired young woman turned around and glanced at him. Seeing that she was about to say something, he brought his finger to his lips, signaling for her to remain quiet.   
  
As Harry stood in the doorway, the young woman's eyes remained on him, slowly traveling up and down the length of his body, lingering on certain parts in the process. He was suddenly encompassed by uneasiness, as he was reminded of the stares he often received from the girls at Hogwarts when he walked down the halls.  
  
Before he was able to enter the other room, she winked at him. He stopped to stare at her for a moment, his brows drawn together as he eyed the coy smile on the corner of her glossy lips. That was not the first time she had done that to him; his entire relationship with Cho had been plagued with winks and suggestive glances from the woman.   
  
The only time she had done anything physical towards him was the previous week at his house, when she had cornered him in an empty hallway on his way to the library, as he sought solitude from the partygoers. She pressed herself against his body, her left hand traveling down his back, giving him a firm pinch on the bum.   
  
He could not move as he was shocked at how brazen she was being at the moment, apparently risking the chance that one of the other women would see her actions. He took one last look at her before heading into the other room and shutting the doors.  
  
He was on his way to Cho's dressing room, where he knew she would be getting ready, when loud laughing coming from outside led him to the grand windows of the bedroom. He looked out of the glass and saw members of the Chang family walking around the gardens below. Lead by Mr. and Mrs. Chang, the party made their way up the small bridge over the carp pond, towards the gazebo, which was now being decorated for the ceremony.  
  
As the family disappeared out of sight, a pained expression spread on Harry's face as he thought how none of his blood relatives would be present at the wedding. He doesn't know what possessed him to invite the Dursleys, considering he was not in good terms with them when he had vacated their home the year before. Regardless, he had driven to their house and handed the invitation to his uncle. But Vernon had handed it right back, showing little interest in the youngster's nuptials. In fact, the only person who seemed somewhat intrigued to attend was Dudley, whose fat face lit up when he saw the moving pictures on the invitation.  
  
Harry opened the door to Cho's dressing room, one of the few rooms in the house he had never entered before. The splendor of the room rivaled only that of the manor's grand ballroom; the walls were covered in ivory silk wallpaper and a chandelier hung from the doomed ceiling that was enchanted to resemble the night sky.   
  
Cho was seated before him at her dressing table, looking at her image in the mirror as she applied her makeup. She was only wearing a satin robe and he could see her stockings and the beginning of what looked like a garter belt on her exposed leg.   
  
Even though the well-sculpted leg was a delectable sight indeed, it was not enough to keep his eyes from darting to the open shelves on his left that held all of her clothes. Although he knew most of her things were packed, there were still a large amount of robes, shoes and purses sitting on the various cabinets.  
  
"Cho let me help you with your dress," said the house-elf at the other end of the room. "It has to go over your head, so be careful that you don't mess up your hair."   
  
Glancing up, she nearly dropped the garment when she saw Harry standing by the door. "What on earth are you doing in here?" she asked as she narrowed her eyes on the green-eyed man. "You are not supposed to see the bride before the wedding. And certainly not when she is half naked."  
  
Hearing the house-elf say her fiancé's name, Cho turned around in her chair and glanced up at him. She placed whatever was in her hands on the counter and jumped out of her seat. "Why are you so late? The photographer's going to be here soon."  
  
"I'm sorry," Harry said. He looked down at his feet, thinking how he had spent more time at Hermione's than he had planned. After Ms. Granger had thrown him out of her bedroom, he had seated himself on the living room couch, petting Crookshanks – who had finally decided to give him the time of day.  
  
Before he could explain himself, the house-elf placed her hands around Cho's waist and pulled her away. She positioned her small body between Harry and Cho's and lifted the wedding dress high in the air, as she attempted to shield the young lady's body from Harry's prying eyes. She glanced over her shoulder at Cho, and eyed her robes, which were slipping off her shoulders and exposing her bra. "Will you please cover yourself up? You should show a little bit more modesty."  
  
The old house-elf directed her glare at Harry once more. "Now get out. It's inappropriate for you to be in here, regardless of your past activities with Cho."  
  
"Olga," screeched Cho.   
  
Harry lowered his head, hoping that his cheeks would not turn a bright crimson and give away his embarrassment. When he glanced up, the house-elf's large amber eyes were still on him, glaring at him with disapproval.   
  
"I have kept your meetings with Cho a secret from her parents for long enough," the elderly house-elf spouted, a look of disgust spreading across her face at the same time, "but I will not tolerate this sort of behavior anymore."  
  
"I'm sorry," said Harry. "I didn't mean to offend you in any way. I'll leave."  
  
Cho walked up to him and stopped him from escaping the room by placing her body in front of the door. "You don't have to go. I want you here with me." She looked over Harry's shoulder at Olga. "He's going to be my husband in a few hours. And I don't think it's right for you to kick him out."  
  
An enraged look spread on Olga's face. "But he certainly can't be in here while you get dressed, it's indecent."  
  
"He can just turn around."   
  
Harry placed a hand on Cho's waist, and got a stern look from the house-elf when his fingers accidentally brushed up against his fiancée's bosom, pushing the loosely secured robe out of place and thus exposing more of her bra. He immediately brought his arm back to his side. He leaned in close to Cho's ear and whispered, "I don't want to cause any trouble here. I just wanted to say hi anyways.   
  
She grabbed his shirt and mouthed, "Stay." Turning around, she then got down on one knee and faced Olga. "He won't look, I promise."  
  
"Fine," the house-elf muttered in a tight voice under her breath.   
  
Harry turned and faced the door, as Cho and her overprotective servant went to the other end of the room. Soon, all he could hear was the rustling of fabric.  
  
"I really missed you this morning," Cho said.  
  
Harry glanced over his shoulder. "I'm sorry I had to take off, but—" He paused when Olga, who was standing on a high stool as she lifted the dress over Cho's half naked body, glared at him. He immediately faced the door once more.  
  
"What were you saying?" his future bride asked.  
  
"I had company coming over. Sirius dropped by." As he talked to the door, Harry stopped to think of the absurdity of what Olga was forcing him to do. He didn't know why he couldn't just face Cho, seeing that he had just catch sight of her in her under things; he had seen her in less on numerous occasions. But he obeyed Olga's orders and continued to stare at the wood door. Plus, he knew the house-elf was probably watching him at that exact moment.  
  
"Sirius? I didn't know they released him from the hospital already."  
  
"Cho," snapped Olga, "could you please pay more attention to what you're doing? You're going to tear the gown."  
  
"How's—"  
  
Harry couldn't hear the rest of Cho's sentence, as it came out sounding muffled. He guessed her dress was going over her head at that time.  
  
"How's he doing?" she asked again.  
  
"A lot better than when you last saw him." A smile spread on his face as he thought of his godfather, who was probably back in his wheelchair, being pushed around the gardens by Dobby. Harry's hand traveled to his neck, as he recalled his earlier conversation with the other man. "About the guesthouse," he said rather quickly, "I've decided that Sirius should…" He then took a long pause.  
  
Harry reached into the pocket of his trousers, his fingers wrapping around a piece of thread, as he concentrated on what he would say next. "I talked to Sirius about it and he's happy with the plan."   
  
He gulped audibly, realizing his sentences were coming out sounding ambiguous. He pulled his hand out of his pocket and looked down at it. His eyes grew wide with surprise when he saw that there was actually a long strand of brown hair wrapped around his index finger.  
  
He closed his eyes and brought his hand to his nose, allowing himself to be consumed by the aroma of her shampoo: a crisp clean smell that lingered with a hint of rose. Thoughts of a previous summer spent at The Burrow, when he, Ron, and Hermione would be seated at the kitchen table, eagerly waiting for Molly Weasley to place the plates of sausages and eggs before them, flooded back into his memory. Hermione would be sitting on his right, her freshly washed hair still moist and emanating the same scent that had now enraptured him.   
  
That time spent at the Weasleys' was relaxing, as he was able to escape thoughts of Voldemort for that short period of time. And his relationship with Hermione had not yet been complicated by the emotional ramifications that was brought along by their sexual union - which would occur months later, and reduce their interactions to a series of awkward moments accompanied by bashful glances and reddening cheeks.   
  
But those days are never to be had again, he thought. Hermione's once jovial face was replaced by the images of that afternoon, and the strange behavior that he had witnessed. Then suddenly, as if his temporary amnesia had been lifted, he remembered why he had stayed so late at Hermione's house; the announcement that she had no intentions of attending the wedding had forced him to stay, hoping his extended presence in the flat would convince her to change her mind.  
  
He lowered his gaze to the floor, his face becoming glum as he thought of Hermione's absence. His hand went back into his trousers and deposited that strand of hair into his pocket, as it had now lost the happy memories that had once been associated with it.  
  
"Harry," said the house-elf, who was now standing beside him, her long, bony fingers on his shirt. "You can turn around now and look at your future bride."  
  
Harry slowly pivoted, and glanced at Cho. She was standing in the center of the room, her hands running up and down the long cream-colored gown, her fingers lightly grazing the delicate silk fabric.  
  
"What do you think?" Cho asked.  
  
His spirit still clouded with sadness from his previous thoughts of Hermione, Harry was only able to mutter, "It's nice."  
  
Olga, who was displaying what could have been interpreted as a smile as her large eyes washed over Cho, gazed up at him.  
  
Seeing the disappointed look on Cho's face and the unrelenting glare coming from Olga, Harry cleared his throat. "I mean you look beautiful," he said with as much enthusiasm as he could muster. He forced his lips into a grin, but quickly lowered his head when neither Cho's nor the house-elf's hard gaze changed.  
  
"Great choice of a husband you've made," Olga stated. "He can't even give his future wife and mother of his children a genuine compliment."   
  
Cho brought her hand onto the house-elf's shoulder. "Olga please be kind."   
  
Olga moved away from Cho and placed her hands on her small hips, glaring up at Harry. "Just because everyone in the wizarding community fawns over him, doesn't mean I will too."   
  
She kept her narrowed eyes on him as she made her way to the door. "I will give you ten minutes to be alone, and do…. whatever. But after that, you" she said, sticking a bony finger out at Harry, "will have to go." She paused at the door for a moment, and glanced over her shoulder at Cho. "Don't do anything improper in here."  
  
When Olga had left, Cho approached Harry and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I'm really sorry about that. She always thinks we're in here doing something sexual. She never believes when I say we spend most of our time talking."   
  
Just out of curiosity, Harry pressed his ear to the door, sure that Olga would be standing at the other end, waiting with sheer anticipation for any grunting or moaning noises to come wafting into her large ears. Noticing the look on Cho's face, he signaled for her to keep quiet, as he did not want Olga to have a heads up on what he was doing. He waited several minutes at the door, holding his breath so she would not hear him. After he had gotten ample evidence that no one was there, he pulled away.  
  
"You can never be too careful," he said. "Are you sure you want her to come and live with us? You don't think she'll have a stroke about us sharing a bedroom?"  
  
Cho pulled away, as it was now her turn to place her hands on her hips. "Don't say that. I know she's a bit stern at times—" Harry opened his mouth to utter a smart-alecky retort, but she lifted her hand in the air and prevented him from saying a word. "Like I was saying before. She has her good points. She's very loyal, works hard and has never tattled on my parents about you coming over here."  
  
"True," said Harry, thinking of all the opportunities the elderly house-elf could have told her parents about their nightly rendezvous. But remaining quiet was not the only thing she had done to help out the couple; she always made sure the staff washed Harry's clothes, and that they awoke to a large tray of food every morning.   
  
"But I still think she hates me," he said.  
  
"She doesn't hate you. She's just a little old-fashioned. And very protective of me."  
  
Harry thought Olga possessed those two qualities in abundance. The house-elf was of a different generation and had very strong and limited views of what was and was not appropriate behavior for a man and woman. The green-eyed man thought Olga had become possessive of Cho over the years. But he couldn't blame her, since she had raised his future bride from infancy. Although she had always been surly to Harry from the beginning, her hatred towards him did not fully surface till she caught him in Cho's bed the previous summer.  
  
Cho's face became serious as she glanced down her dress. "You don't like it, do you?"  
  
"It's lovely," he said, with more sincerity in his voice.  
  
"I'll look more beautiful when I finish getting ready." She walked back to the large granite counter and busied herself with the activities he had seen her conducting when he first entered the room.   
  
Harry pulled up a large armchair from the corner of the room and propped himself into it. As he sank into the soft fabric of the chair, he stared up at the bright lights encompassing the entire length of the mirror. He lost himself in the soft glow of the illumination, as he thought of how Cho's vanity was a grander and more elegantly appointed versions of Hermione's.   
  
"What's wrong?" she asked, seeing the look on his face in the mirror.   
  
"I was just thinking about Hermione," he muttered nonchalantly. Still engrossed in his own thoughts, he did not see that she was now glaring at him. "I paid her a visit today, and we had a very unusual conversation."  
  
The bottle of lotion Cho was holding in her hands fell onto the counter with a loud thud. She was able to catch the small jar before it rolled onto the floor. She glanced over her shoulder once more and raised a delicate brow. "What did you and Hermione talk about?"  
  
"She said she wasn't coming to the wedding." Harry dropped his gaze from the alluring light fixtures to his future bride's face, noticing how was now staring at him with great interest. "But she wouldn't tell me why she had changed her mind about attending. She mentioned something about being too embarrassed to come. I tried to talk to her about it, but she already had her mind set."  
  
"That's too bad," Cho replied. She then turned around and opened her bottle of lotion, applying the fragrant substance to her hands and arms.  
  
There was a heavy silence between them, the only noise in the room was the sounds the various objects made when Cho lifted them, and then placed them back on the counter.  
  
"Do you think I'm slow in reacting to things?" Harry asked.  
  
Cho brought her brows together and glanced at him. "What?"  
  
"Do you think I don't react to things in a timely manner?" Before she had the chance to ponder the question, he had begun talking again. "I don't think that about myself." He placed his finger to his temple, as he fell back into deep thought, obviously recalling past episodes that reinforced that opinion of himself. "When we got engaged, didn't I immediately start searching for a place for us to live?"  
  
A smug smile spread on his face as he thought back to how he tackled that task, first hiring an estate agent to assist him with his search, and then finally calling about the help of his friend's mother. But that smile soon faded when he heard her snort loudly. He snapped back to reality and glanced at her. "What?"  
  
"You only went looking for the house after I spent about two weeks badgering you about it. Remember all those owls I send you at school?" She put down her brush and glared at him. "Which you never responded to, by the way. I finally got you to take action after I sent you that Howler."  
  
He looked down again, thinking of the snickering he received from his fellow classmates when his fiancée's message went off during breakfast. The vivid expression on a certain blond Slytherin's face still remained with him till that day.  
  
"If it wasn't for me," she continued, "you and I would be living with Sirius in that tiny flat of his. Oh, that reminds me, one of my friends said he put his place on the market. I guess he can't live there anymore because it's not handicapped accessible. Do you know where he's planning to move?"  
  
Harry knew the moment had come for him to reveal all to her, but he hesitated and eventually lost his gumption. He stared up at her with blank eyes and shook his head.  
  
She faced her mirror again and began to apply her makeup. "Why did you bring up the topic about your inability to act."  
  
"Hermione said I didn't act swiftly—"  
  
"Can we please not talk about her again?" interrupted Cho.  
  
Although he wanted someone to help him analyze what could be bothering his seemingly temperamental friend, Harry immediately stopped talking, as the recollection of last night's argument was still fresh in his mind. He stretched out his feet and rested his head against the chair, as he continued to watch Cho get ready.  
  
Humming an obscure tune to himself and looking down at his shoes as he tapped them on her thickly carpeted floor, he glanced up to discover she was staring at him. Her face screwed in a twisted grimace, she curiously eyed him. The large grin disappeared from his face, and he settled his hands in his lap, ceasing the foolish activity he had been engaged in.  
  
"I just noticed you're not in your tux," she said.  
  
"It only takes me a few minutes to get ready, so I'll get dressed when I leave here. I think all the guys should also be dressed by the time I get back." He then thought of his houseguests. Ron would surely still be on the sofa, he mused. A smile spread on his face when he imagined a toga clad Neville standing over the redhead, slowly fanning him with a giant banana leaf. But that smile faded as his thoughts narrowed and concentrated on one houseguest in particular.  
  
"I had a long chat with Dean earlier," Harry said. He paused long enough to see if she would react to the mention of the other man's name; she made no reaction and continued to put on her earrings. "He said he's not coming to the wedding."  
  
She stopped her actions for a moment and glanced over her shoulder at him. But just as quickly, she faced her mirror and began fixing her hair. "That's too bad," she responded casually. "He's a really nice guy."  
  
He watched as her fingers weaved in and out of the delicate bun on her head, trying to fix the strands that had come loose from the hairstyle. "Oh, this is ridiculous," she muttered. She grabbed her wand from the counter and tapped it against her head. "What style do you like?"  
  
Harry remained quiet for a moment. "Were you and Dean close friends?"  
  
She continued to tap her wand against her head, watching her hair change from curly ringlets to straight. "Why would you ask that?"  
  
"No particular reason."  
  
"I would really like my hair down, but I don't want it to get in my face. When you kiss me, I don't want you to get a mouthful of hair. What do you think—"  
  
"When did Dean come over to your house?" He watched as she kept her wand on her head for a moment, before placing it down on the vanity. "It's just that he mentioned coming over to your place, and I was just wondering when it happened. He even said he encountered Olga."  
  
Cho glanced over at him. He sat back in his chair, thinking she would give him an explanation. But she looked away.   
  
"Cho," he said again.  
  
"He was only here a couple of times. Nothing more."  
  
He remained quiet, as he didn't want to seem as though he was pressuring her to talk. He assumed she would start talking if there was more that had to be said.  
  
She got up from her seat and turned her chair around, facing him. She lowered her head and then glanced up at him through her long lashes. "We shared a kiss once in the den. Olga caught us and gave Dean quite a tongue lashing."  
  
Harry drew in a deep breath, as he had not been prepared for that piece of information. He had expected her to talk a mere flirtation that they shared, not actual physical contact. The revelation was a bit of a shock since she had been so honest with him about her past romantic dealings. He knew she had been sexual with one other person, whose name they never utter. He was also aware of one or two other people she had briefly dated after that, but Dean's name had never been mentioned.  
  
Cho lowered her gaze, as she tried to hide the smile that was now developing on her face. "Poor Dean," she said with a slight melancholy in his voice. "When Olga told my parents about what he had done, they went through the roof and said he couldn't visit anymore."  
  
"Wait a minute," he interjected, "your father once caught us making out in the library and he never said anything."   
  
"That's because he knew you and I were in love. Plus he approved of you. He knew you had a good head on your shoulders. I think he thought Dean was a bit of a lost cause, with no hopes of a future. Poor guy."   
  
Harry recognized that caring tone that was now in her voice, causing him to wonder about her relationship with the other man. "Did you guys date?"  
  
"No. It was a one-time thing." Her head was still lowered, her long silky hair blocking her face. She quickly glanced up at him. "I invited him over here because his parents were gone on holiday for the summer, and he was all alone. I guess I felt sorry for him. We were just sitting on the couch talking, and that's when we kissed."  
  
She remained quiet for a long time afterwards, her eyes steady on Harry, probably trying to guess what could have been running through his mind at that time, and what he must of thought about her.  
  
"We never did anything other than kiss," she went on. "That was a very difficult time for me. It was right after the Tri-Wi—" She stopped talking and gazed down at her hands. "Anyways, I didn't say anything to you because you guys were in the same house and I thought it would make you feel weird. Plus, nothing really happened between he and I that made it worth mentioning."  
  
She got up from her chair and sat on his lap, draping her arm around his shoulders. "Are you mad I kept it from you?"  
  
Harry shook his head. "I could never be mad at you for something like that. Anyway, I'm glad you didn't tell me while I was still in school. It would have felt a little uncomfortable dealing with Dean on a regular basis if I knew the truth about you guys."  
  
"Well, I don't want you to be jealous or anything, because nothing happened." She lowered her head as if she was going to place a kiss on his lips, but hesitated for a moment. After some thought, she kissed him. She then laughed as she tried to get the lipstick marks off his face.  
  
  
  
"It feels so good to finally have everything out in the open," she said, getting up from his lap. "I never really liked keeping something like that to myself."   
  
  
She sat in front of her mirror again, changing the brightness of the lights with a snap of her fingers. "I don't think Dean has gotten over me yet," she said, "because last week he kept staring at me." She had a bit of a smile on her face as she talked. She looked back at Harry to see if he had witnessed her happiness; he had not, as he was too busy staring at the other end of the room. She cleared her throat and adopted a stern expression. "I was actually relieved when he finally left the party."   
  
Harry was only half listening to what she was saying and had stopped watching her a long time ago, as he was now completely absorbed in his own thoughts. "There are some things I haven't told you about my past either," he murmured.  
  
Cho made a face. "Harry Potter, you're an open book. I know everything there is to know about you. You never keep things from me." She turned around again and looked down at the large vanity, searching for a hairpin. "You practically told me your whole life story on our first date. I couldn't get you to shut up."  
  
He doesn't know what made him share the entire details of his life with her that afternoon at The Three Broomsticks. All she had to do was say "Tell me about your life" to evoke such a ready response from him. He was honest with her, detailing his childhood in the dark confines of that cupboard, to his last encounters with Voldemort, before the Dark Wizard's death. His tale, of course, had differed so much from her sheltered life attending private schools and coming out parties.   
  
  
  
The smile on her face began to diminish. "You really depressed me that day." She glanced over her shoulder and stared into his face for a moment, before getting out of her chair and kneeling in front of him. "If you ever want me to put a curse on the Dursleys for you, all you have to do is ask. I'm sure I could find a good torture spell in my grandmother's old spell book." She brought her hand to his chin, lightly touching him with the tips of her fingers.  
  
"You don't have to do any of that." He managed a smile as she cupped his face between her hands. He then watched as she walked back to her chair, half dragging the long train of the dress in the process. "I really shouldn't have told you those horrible things. Professor Quirrell, Volde…I mean You-Know-Who. I didn't mean to give you nightmares."  
  
"Don't say that. I love hearing about your life."   
  
He began to wring his hands in his lap, wondering if what he was about to do was the right thing. Before he could rethink his decision, he found himself blurting out, "I've been in a relationship you know nothing about."  
  
She brought her hands over her mouth, trying to shield her laugh. "The only person you've ever dated was me. If you had dated someone else, I'm sure news of it would have spread around the school like wildfire. Unless…" She turned around and gave him an amused smile. "Don't tell me you had a secret relationship with Ginny."  
  
"I never dated her."   
  
"I don't think she's gotten used to the idea that we're getting married because she was giving me a lot of attitude when I last saw her."   
  
Harry thought back to the expression on Ginny's face a few months before, when Ron had announced – against Harry's will – to the entire common room that he was getting married to Cho. Ginny's eyes had changed from shock, to sadness and anger in a split second's time. He would have chased after her when she ran up to the dorms, but the equally shocked look on Hermione's face kept him put.   
  
"Anyway," continued Cho. "I met up with Ginny the other day when we were both eating at the same restaurant. I was in the middle of explaining to the waitress that I didn't want any dressing on my salad, when I heard some giggling coming from behind me. She and her little friends were sitting a couple of tables away, and I could see that she was rolling her eyes at me."  
  
Cho finally spotted her hairclip and fastened a portion of her hair in back of her head. "Oh, that reminds me. I'm so sorry about Eloise. I was told she was flirting with you at the party last week. Can you believe the nerve of that woman to do a thing like that to my future husband? Anyway, she and I had a long and heated talk right before you got here. She told me she was drunk and didn't know what she was doing, and she swore she would never do it again."   
  
"Hermione and I slept together," Harry said.  
  
"If it wasn't for the fact that we've known each other for so long, I would have kicked her out of the bridal--" She stopped talking, as if what he said had just reached her ears at that instance. She took her hands away from her hair and turned around, her eyes large as they stared at him.  
  
"Hermione and I slept together," he said again, thinking he needed to utter those words a second time, to keep her from thinking she was hearing things. His heart was now beating rapidly, as he heard those words come out of his mouth. That was the first time since that following night that he had actually acknowledged the event. His breathing increased and he felt himself growing warm.  
  
She was now facing him, clutching her diamond hairclips in her hands.  
  
Seeing the look on her face and knowing how her mind operated, he quickly added, "This didn't happen last night. This occurred before you and I started dating."  
  
As he went on to talk about his encounter with Hermione, he tried to keep his voice from sounding shaky and unsure. But he didn't have to try hard to accomplish this task; the words spewed from his mouth with ease and little effort, like he had rehearsed it down to the last word. In actuality he had indeed rehearsed it, as he had spend over two years pondering the events over and over again in his head.  
  
"The only time Hermione and I had a chance to talk about this," he said, "was last night."  
  
She continued to stare at him with wide eyes. But he noticed that the clips she once held so tightly in her hands had now fallen to the ground.  
  
"I needed to tell you this because it has been eating at me for so long. I know it's a lot to take in at once, but I hope you can understand why I kept it from you for so long." He leaned forward in his chair, placing his elbows on his knees and clasping his hands together. "I really want to know what you're thinking."  
  
He stared at her face; there was no anger present in her expression that he could immediately detect.  
  
The silence continued for several more moments, as he wanted to give her all the time she needed to digest the information, seeing that his bombshell was greater in severity than the seemingly innocent kiss she had once shared with Dean.   
  
When she didn't say anything to him for what seemed like an eternity of exchanging stares, he got out of his seat and approached her. He leaned against the vanity and looked down at her face. She caught his gaze for only a moment, before looking down at the floor. He touched his hand to her chin in an attempt to get her to look his way once more, but she pushed his fingers away.  
  
He got down on his knees in front of her, his hands resting on legs, allowing him to lean in close to her face and detect the slightest emotion that flickered in her eyes. "Are you mad at me?"  
  
She finally lifted her head and glanced at him for a mere second, before looking at her image in the mirror once more.  
  
"I wanted to tell you all of this some time ago," he went on, "I swear I did. I just never got around to—"  
  
"It's all right. You don't have to tell me anymore." She pushed him aside as she reached over the counter for something.   
  
Harry remained in that squatted position, looking up at her face and wondering if she meant those words. Although she continued with her activities as if nothing had happened, her air of calmness did not fool him; he could plainly tell by her pursed lips and narrowed eyes that things were not right. He touched her knee again, as he wanted to engage her in a dialogue and make sure that there would be no lasting hostility between them.  
  
"It's hard for me to concentrate on what on I'm doing," she said, "with you staring at me like some sort of hawk."  
  
He pulled back for a moment. "How do you feel about this?"  
  
Cho had her lipstick in her hand and was about to bring it to her lips, when she stopped. Slowly turning her head towards him, she said, "I need some fresh air, it's a bit stuffy in here." She then proceeded to get out of her chair, nearly knocking into Harry in the process. "I'll be right back."  
  
Harry moved quickly to get to the door before her. "Before you leave," he began as he pressed his back against the door, his hand firmly on the doorknob, "I want to know if you're mad about this."  
  
She placed her hands on her hips and glared at him. "Will you please get out of my way?" she snapped. "I feel like I'm suffocating in here."  
  
He continued to gaze at her face, silently pleading with her to convey more, but after seeing the irritation that was now growing in her eyes, he moved out of her way and allowed her to exit the room.   
  
He watched as she hurried past him, slamming the door close in the process. He made his way back to the seat, thinking how he should have kept his little secret to himself. 


	8. Do You Want to Tell Them, or Shall I?

Chapter 8: Do You Want to Tell Them, or Shall I?  
  
  
  
Cho eventually came back into the room, walking slowly through the door and refusing to make eye contact with him. She sat down on her seat once more and took a deep breath, before continuing to go about the business of getting herself ready. Harry was soon made to wonder if his future bride was not just doing those things to keep from talking to him, as she looked completely made up in his eyes. He watched as she brought the lipstick to her face, the tube hardly touching her lips.   
  
But even she couldn't keep up the charade for very long, as her movements grew less and less, until she was sitting motionless, staring at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes then darted to his reflection, as she began to give him a hard and long look. "Why didn't you tell me this before?" she asked. "Like when we first started dating?"  
  
Harry continued to stare back into the mirror, as if dumbstruck by the question. He of course had numerous chances to reveal the information to her in the past. He recalled a rare opportunity when he sneaked into the Ravenclaw girls' dorm when all of Cho's roommates were away - or perhaps she asked them to make themselves scarce that afternoon. They had lied on her bed, her head resting on his shoulder, as they stared up at the ceiling, sharing details of their lives to one another. But halfway through their conversation, things turned racy, as they soon began talking about sex.   
  
He learned that her first sexual encounter had occurred during her fifth year, right before her boyfriend at the time was to participate in the third task. She then looked at him, waiting for him to convey details of whom he had slept with. Harry had wanted to share his sexual experience with her as well, but every time he attempted to talk, nothing came out of his mouth. So, he kept quiet. He guessed Cho had attributed his silence to him being a virgin.  
  
Additionally, the couple's disastrous first night of lovemaking helped to reinforce that notion in her head. Everything from his clumsy caresses to the way he slobbered - well, she thought he did - against her neck turned what should have been a night of passionate bliss into an evening he long hoped to forget. He still doesn't know what produced that nervousness from him; that awkwardness was not present in his encounter with Hermione.  
  
"Harry," she said. She had now turned around in her chair and was staring at him.   
  
Harry dropped his head and folded his hands in his lap. "I don't know," he finally muttered, staring down at his feet.  
  
The glare from her eyes continued for several more minutes. "What kind of answer is--" She stopped talking when she heard loud knocking on the door.  
  
"Are you ready yet?" came Olga's voice from the other end of the door.   
  
Cho stood up from her seat and headed to the door, which she opened just a crack. "Can you please give us a few more minutes?"   
  
Harry watched as Olga placed her hands on her narrow hips. The house-elf then leaned close to the door, as she tried to look inside the room.   
  
He noticed that Olga had changed out of her work attire. Although the pillow case dress she was wearing earlier was in much finer condition – actually it was immaculate – compared to the dirty rags Dobby wore when he was working for the Malfoy family, Olga was now wearing a shiny light pink pillowcase that look as though it was made out of silk, with gold beading around the edges. Her large ears were bedecked with gold earrings. She looked nice, Harry thought. A little scary, with her wrinkled face and large saucer shaped eyes, but nicely groomed. She reminded him of the plastic trolls Dudley used to collect, minus the brightly colored hair.   
  
"What are you two doing in there?" Olga asked in her normal screechy voice. "I've given you both more time than was needed to be alone." She then tried to push open the door, looking up at Cho with suspicious eyes. "Are you even dressed?"  
  
Cho sighed loudly and opened the door for the house-elf. "As you can plainly see, I am dressed and so is Harry. We're just having a discussion and would like to be left alone."  
  
Olga took a step into the room and began to look around, her eyes darting from left to right, perhaps looking for some evidence of wrong doing, Harry thought. She then bestowed on him a harsh glare, the same one that always made him feel uncomfortable.   
  
  
"Fine," Olga finally said. But before she left the room, she took a long look at Cho, running her hand along the woman's gown. She signaled with her finger for the future bride to lower her head. She then began to talk into Cho's ear.  
  
Harry couldn't hear what she was saying, because the house-elf had lowered her voice. But he guessed she was complimenting Cho on the way she looked, because a smile began to spread across the young woman's face.  
  
When Olga finally left the room, Cho continued to stand near the door, her back to Harry. She then brought her forehead against the door and stayed there for a long time afterwards.  
  
After a long silence, Harry finally got out of his chair and tentatively approached her. Standing only inches away from her body, he reached out his hand, running his fingers slowly down her spine. When she did not budge, he clasped his hands around her waist. He leaned into her body, his chest rubbing against her back and rested his head on her shoulder. "What are you thinking?" he asked into her ear, his voice soft.  
  
"I should have guessed," uttered Cho, her head still against the door.  
  
"Guessed what?"  
  
"The reason Hermione always acted strangely around you." With that, she moved her shoulder to the side, pushing his face away. She turned around and walked back to her chair. But instead of facing her mirror and pretending to apply her makeup, she faced him, her legs crossed underneath her long gown, and her arms pinned to her chest.   
  
Harry continued to linger at the door, eyeing the rigid expression on her face. He wanted to walk back to his seat, but he couldn't move. "How does Hermione act strangely?" he asked. It was an obviously silly question, for he knew the answer all along. Although civil to Cho, Hermione always had trouble keeping her affections for Harry truly hidden; she would always stare at him with darkened eyes, sit extremely close to him and--  
  
"Harry," Cho snapped. "Did you even hear what I was saying?"  
  
Harry blinked several times. He had been too engrossed in his own thoughts to realize she had begun talking again. "I'm sorry," he said. "What were you saying?"  
  
"I said she's always staring at you in a weird way."  
  
Harry almost took a step backwards when those words reached his ears. It was as though Cho had been reading his thoughts exactly. Realizing his emotions were probably showing on his face, Harry tried to adopt an expressionless look. "What do you mean?" he asked in his calmest voice.  
  
"She's always staring at you like she loves you."  
  
"But she does love me." Harry closed his eyes, realizing his mistake the moment those words escaped his mouth. He had spoken too quickly, he thought, not realizing the implications that his statement could have. "What I meant," he began again, this time choosing just the right words, "is that she loves me like a brother. You have to remember that she and I practically grew up together."  
  
"I know that. But the look she gives you is different. It's not a sisterly kind of glance, but more like…." She paused for a moment. "It's the way I look at you."  
  
She dropped her hands from her chest and brought them to her side. Sinking back into her chair, the hardened look on her face disappeared as she began to stare straight ahead. Harry at first thought she was taking inventory of her clothes, but on closer inspection of her focused eyes, he realized she was thinking. Probably thinking back to all those times she had caught Hermione staring at him.  
  
"I always thought she had feelings for you," Cho began, "and now I know that she does."   
  
Harry managed to let out a forced laugh. "You don't know for sure how she feels about me. She probably looks at Ron the same way too."  
  
"She doesn't look at him the same way. Maybe you don't see it because you're a man. But I can see it. I notice the way her face lights up when she's around you, and the way she always manages to touch your arm when she's talking to you."  
  
A smile began to grow on Harry's lips just then as he thought of his friend's habit. It was true that every time they would be involved in a conversation, Hermione's hand would reach out to him, her fingers making light contact with his skin. Or else she would place her hand on top of his. The smile had grown larger on his face, until he focused his attention back to Cho.   
  
She of course was not smiling, but staring at him with those deep eyes that always seemed to know what he was thinking. He looked down, trying hard to chase those thoughts of Hermione out of his mind. When he looked up, her eyes were still on him. But then her gaze slowly moved away from his face, as she glanced down at her shoes.   
  
Harry strolled back to his chair. Seeing that she didn't look angry, he moved his chair close to hers, sitting only a foot away. "Is that why you've always been cold to her?" he asked.  
  
She lifted her head. "I've always been nice to Hermione."   
  
"I'm not saying you've been mean, but you have to admit that you do act differently when she's around. You kinda stiffen up. She's under the impression you don't like her."  
  
Cho took her time replying. Her silence was starting to make Harry become uncomfortable, but she eventually opened her mouth and said, "It's not that I don't like her. I just feel weird around her, every since the four of us went to Hogsmeade together."   
  
Harry sat back in his chair, remembering the day during his sixth year when he, Ron, Hermione and Cho had gone out to dinner together. He and Cho had been dating for two months, and he thought it would be a good idea if his two best friends became better acquainted with his girlfriend. But the night had been somewhat of a disappointment, as Cho barely talked the entire evening and he and Hermione were still feeling uneasy around one another.   
  
"I was really uncomfortable that night," she said.  
  
He reached over and placed his hand on her knee. "I'm sorry about that. I know Ron can be a handful sometimes." Ron was indeed unruly that night. Thinking he could liven up the somber atmosphere that had enveloped their table, the redhead began to tell raunchy jokes and belch the alphabet.  
  
Cho made a face. "No, I wasn't talking about him. I was referring to you and Hermione."  
  
"Me and Hermione?" Harry thought back to what they could have done to make Cho feel uncomfortable.   
  
"You guys kept finishing off each other's sentences. And she knew so much about you. More than I could ever know in a lifetime."  
  
A somewhat relieved smile spread on Harry's face. He grabbed her left hand and held it tightly in his own. "We'll have our whole life to get to know each other better." He moved forward in his chair and attempted to place a kiss on her lips, but she turned her head to the side.  
  
"That's not the only thing," she went on, "that bothers me about your relationship with her." She then gazed down at her gown.   
  
Eyeing her closely, Harry was able to detect a sliver of sadness in her eyes. He wanted to stroke her face just then, run his fingers over that smooth skin until her spirits brightened. But he did nothing; he suspected she was in deep thought, and his touch could cause her to lose her concentration. So he sank back in the chair and waited patiently for her to begin talking.  
  
"The thing that bothers me most about you guys," she said quietly, still keeping her eyes lowered, "is how you always confide in her."  
  
"But--" Harry immediately paused and bit back his urge to refute the statement. He wanted to hear her reasoning before he said anything more.  
  
Cho remained quiet for a moment, perhaps waiting to see if he would try to say more. "I sometimes feel left out of your life because you always run to her before you console with me first."   
  
She closed her eyes. When she opened them again, they were glistening. Harry moved back in the chair when he witnessed the sight. He had never seen her in that state, as she was always so composed.   
  
"It really hurt me," she said, "when you didn't tell me about the Cannons asking you to be on the team. I know you were in Hogwarts and I was here, but you could have owled me." Her right hand lowered as she began to play with the lace trimming on her gown. "I could have helped you make the decision about joining the team. And let me remind you that I did play Quidditch."  
  
Cho brought her hand to her face and wiped away the tear that was now drizzling down her cheek. "But instead," she continued, "you run to Hermione and tell her the news, despite her not being knowledgeable about nor even liking the sport."  
  
Her voice was now breaking, as she began to take several pauses after every word. But she cleared her throat and looked Harry straight in the face. "I was really hurt when you did that."  
  
Harry lowered his gaze, not wanting to look into those brown eyes anymore. It was true that she should have been the first one to hear about his Quidditch deal, considering they were engaged at the time. But he had been taken aback when he began to receive letters from every team in the league. He remembered how an owl from the Bats, dressed in the team's colors, flew into the Great Hall and delivered a singing message to him.   
  
Of course everyone in his house put in their two cents on which organization he should play for, from discreetly slipping him little notes in class, to shouting out a team name to him while he walked down the hall.   
  
He had initially not wanted to join any team, thinking it would be too dangerous, as the professions played a rougher and nastier game than even the Slytherins. He'd been worried about his well-being, and since he and Cho had decided they would start a family during their second year of marriage, he wanted to be in good health when his children arrived. At the time, he had considered getting a cushy job at the Ministry of Magic or working at Cho's father's financial management business. But deep in his heart, he knew he wanted to play Quidditch.  
  
He could have easily talked to Cho about the matter, since his decision would also affect her, but he thought she was too preoccupied with the wedding plans. So he turned to the only person around whose opinion he valued: Hermione. Ron was deemed unable to provide him with the impartial advice he needed, due to his near worship of the Cannons.   
  
After much deliberation, Harry finally settled on the struggling Cannons; his friendship with and the heartfelt letter he received from team captain Oliver Wood had heavily influenced his decision.  
  
"Do you know how it makes me feels," she stated, "every time I open up a magazine and it credits Hermione for getting you to sign with the Cannons?"   
  
Harry remained quiet, as he didn't know how to answer such a question. But he guessed she didn't really want him to respond, as she quickly began to talk once more. "It's not that I wanted the bragging rights or anything, it just would have been nice to be involved in the decision making, considering all that I've given up for you. I quit playing because of you."  
  
"You didn't have to."  
  
Cho's eyes widened and she quickly snatched her hand away from his. "Of course I had to," she nearly shouted. "I wouldn't feel right competing against you in a game."  
  
Her gaze remained on him for a brief instance, before traveling to the corner of the room and resting on a picture. She eyed the portrait of him in his Gryffindor Quidditch gear, flying high above the pitch. The expression on his face was laden with determination as his eyes were narrowed, obviously searching for the snitch and telling himself to reach it before the other team's seeker - which he always did.   
  
Harry looked at the photo too, thinking how that was the day Gryffindor had won the Quidditch Cup, during his sixth year.  
  
"I've always loved that picture of you," she said.   
  
He leaned forward and touched her leg. "Well you're a great photographer." His hand began to move along her leg in a slow circular motion. He soon stopped with his caressing when he noticed the look on her face. She was still eyeing his photograph, but unlike the previous time, when she had looked upon his image with pride, the expression in her eyes was now slightly glum. "What's wrong?" he asked.  
  
"That could have been me, you know." She got up from her chair and approached the portrait. "Ravenclaw could have won the Quidditch Cup that year, if I had been on the team." She touched her hand to the glass and watched as the portrait of Harry slowly turned to her, the intense look on his face fading as his lips curved into a smile . But the smile soon disappeared when something golden whizzed by in the background, causing him to go chasing after it. The picture was now empty, showing only a view of the bright blue sky and the billows of clouds that floated about like balls of cotton.  
  
But Harry came back into the picture, proudly holding out the snitch in his hands for his betrothed to see. Cho's eyes flittered to that golden and shiny ball, watching as its wings thundered against Harry's fingers in a hopeless attempt to get away. Her eyes then traveled up to Harry's smiling face. Then with a swift motion, Cho turned the picture over onto the table.   
  
Harry looked down when he caught a glimpse of her face. It was true she had been a great seeker; she was actually the only one in school who had given him the least bit of a challenge. She had been a formidable force during the game for the Cup in his fifth year, matching his every movement and speed. She would have been a perfect seeker for the Bats, he mused, thinking how the team had wasted that position on Draco Malfoy; who he thought was only chosen because of his looks and family name, rather than his talent, or lack there of.  
  
When Harry had drifted out of his thoughts, he saw that Cho was seated once more, this time holding a large golden box in her hands. He watched as she reached behind her to the vanity, her fingers roaming over the makeup containers and other small bottles until they curled around a small key. She then unlocked the box and pulled back the lid, taking out a large bundle of letters that were held together by a neatly tied pink ribbon. "These are all the love letters you ever wrote me while we were in school."   
  
Harry reached out and took the letters from her. On top of the pile lay the first letter he ever wrote her, dated October 1, 1996. It was rather short, consisting of only five inches of parchment. He made a face as he scanned what was his first attempt at a poem. His fingers glided through the stack, until he reached the pile of letters he had written during his last year of school. Unlike the correspondences on the top, these letters were significantly longer and more well thought out, as he had become more at ease and proficient with his writing skills by then.  
  
When he looked up again, Cho was holding an envelope in her hands; he could see the red seal from where he sat.  
  
"This arrived to me during my last year," she said. "It came as a surprise, considering I had stopped playing by then. But I guess they still had faith I would be in good form." Her finger moved along the seal, which glimmered from the flickering overheard light of the chandelier. "I never told anyone about it, not even you." She leaned forward and gently placed the envelope on top of the large pile of letters.   
  
Harry eyed the envelope. He was about to reach inside and read the letter, but stopped when his gaze fell upon the seal, which told him all he needed to know. His eyes washed over it, growing large with surprise, before he glanced up at her again. "Why didn't you tell me about this earlier?"  
  
She looked down at her hands. "What was the point? I was going to turn down their offer anyway. Plus I didn't want you to feel bad."   
  
Before Harry could say another word, she reached for the pile of letters on his lap and put them back in her box, locking the lid. She got up from her seat and put the box in the hidden compartment behind her many robes.   
  
Harry grabbed her hand when she attempted to walk past him on her way to her vanity. "Cho, we could have worked it out. You would have done a great job being a seeker for the Bats."  
  
He dropped his head, remembering how dedicated she had been to the game; even though she was no longer on the team, she never failed to practice with her former Ravenclaw teammates every afternoon. He was also impressed by her physical condition; even joining her on one of her morning runs around the castle grounds.   
  
She moved her arm out of his reach. "Well it doesn't matter now, does it? Anyway they gave the job to Malfoy."  
  
"You didn't have to sacrifice your career for me."  
  
"Well I did," she snapped. "And you repay me by telling me you slept with Hermione."   
  
The hard look she bestowed upon him made him move back in his seat. He had seen that look before, but only on very rare occasions when her anger was fully aroused.   
  
"I didn't say all of that to anger you," he said, his hand trying to find its way to her once more. "I just wanted to come clean to you because you came clean to me."  
  
"There's a big difference between a kiss and having sex with someone."  
  
Harry stiffened in his seat. The remorse he had been feeling only seconds before vanished as he was now possessed with something else. He had assumed he was doing the right thing by telling her everything about his past. "It had taken a lot for me to say that to you. I thought you'd at least appreciate that."  
  
Cho leaned against the counter and glared at him, a cynical smirk spreading on her lips, as her eyes moved up and down on his body. "Appreciate that you lied to me all these years?"  
  
Harry felt his heart racing, as his hands tightened around the arms of the chair, his fingernails digging into the fabric. "You did the same thing. You lied to me about Dean."  
  
"I never lied to you about anything. I never said anything about Dean because he wasn't an important person in my life. He and I didn't do anything that was worth mentioning."  
  
Harry could hear her breathing. He rested his head against the back of the chair and closed his eyes for a moment. He now knew he was in for a long battle. Although appearing meek and unassuming to everyone else, Harry knew that deep down Cho was extremely feisty and would not back down.  
  
"You," she said pointing a finger at him, "are the one that lied. I asked you if you ever slept with anyone and you kept quiet. To me, having sex with someone is a big deal and is worthy of mentioning to your girlfriend. I was honest with you from the beginning. I told you about my experience with Ced—" She paused and brought her gaze to the corner of the room.   
  
He then saw how her eyes were now glistening once more. She held her hand up to her face for several minutes before looking at him again. "If I had slept with Dean," she said, her voice shaky and unstable, "I would have told you."  
  
"I'm sorry. I wanted to say something, but I just couldn't. I guess I just tried to forget it ever happened. But I certainly didn't mean to upset you right before our wedding." He continued to look into her face. But the intense glare in her eyes did not soften. "Listen, I don't want to fight with you right now. I just want us to have a good day."  
  
"I don't want to fight either," she replied. Her breathing had slowed down significantly, but her face still held the tell tale signs of being upset. "But I think there's more that needs to be discussed."  
  
"Like what?"  
  
"You mentioned that you and Hermione talked about this last night, right?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"When did you guys talk about it?" Harry brought his brows together. She saw the confusion that was now on his face and said, "When during the stag party did you guys talk about your one night stand?"  
  
Harry flinched a bit as he heard his encounter with Hermione referred to in that way. Something about the way she said it cheapened the experience. "I guess you could say we discussed it towards the end of the party. Right before everyone left for the Witch…the club."  
  
"And who brought up the subject?"  
  
Harry opened his mouth to respond, but then stopped. He gave Cho a hard look. "Why are you asking me these ques--"  
  
"Who brought up the subject?" she asked again.  
  
"Hermione did."   
  
Cho had now crossed her arms tightly against her chest. "Why did she bring it up?"  
  
"Well, Ron said something about her having…" He hesitated for a moment. "Ron mentioned something about her still having feelings for me," he said in a small voice. He could now detect a smile forming on her lips.   
  
Harry didn't like the way she was interrogating him. But he suspected she didn't completely trust him now that she knew he had kept something of that nature from her for so long. So, he decided to tell her everything that took place at the party. "Hermione and I talked about the incident while the other guys were playing pool."  
  
"Is that when she kissed you?" she asked nonchalantly, with almost a smirk on her lips.  
  
Harry held his breath for a second. "What?"  
  
"Is that when she placed her lips on you?"  
  
Harry's mind began to race as he tried to figure out how Cho could have known about their kiss. He then assumed Dean must have been the one who told her about the embrace. But before he could start cursing the young man, who was now at his house enjoying the comforts of his guest bedroom, he remembered that he and Hermione were on a street corner during their kiss, far away from Dean and all of the other party guests.   
  
"You had lipstick on you," she said, sensing what he must have been thinking. "I noticed it when I tried to kiss you. Of course I thought the lipstick was from an overly zealous waitress who wanted to congratulate you. But after I found out Hermione was at the party, I knew it must have been from her."  
  
A heavy silence grew between them, as Harry thought of how stupid he had been for not being more careful that night. But all he could do at that moment, as the shame washed over his body, was look down and try to ignore the hard glare she was giving him.  
  
"Harry," she said, her voice soft, "is their something else you'd like to confess to me?"  
  
Harry shook his head. "You already know everything. There's nothing else."  
  
She sat in her chair. Being so close to her made Harry wish she would go back to her vanity. "I'm going to sit right here," she said, "until you tell me what you've been hiding."  
  
"What? I'm not hiding anything else. You already know that Hermione and I slept together and she kissed me last night. There's nothing else, I swear."  
  
She took a deep breath. "You think I'm really stupid don't you?"  
  
"I don't think that of you. You're a very intelligent—"  
  
"Will you stop?" she shouted. "I already know the truth, so don't sit there and patronize me with stupid compliments." She remained silent for a long time, probably giving him some time to make a guess as to what could be running through her mind. "Do you have feelings for her?"  
  
Harry did not answer.  
  
"Harry, do you love her?"  
  
Right then and there, Harry was taken back to his fifth year in school. A week after their sexual encounter, Hermione had crept into his dorm and asked him that same question. He wanted to respond and say what was in his heart, but he had said nothing, causing her to cry and walk out of the room. But since then he struggled with that question, which he had pondered during his entire relationship with Cho, causing him to stay awake late at night.   
  
He glanced up at Cho's face, watching the expression in her eyes switch from anger to sadness. "I can't believ—" She stopped talking and turned her head towards the door.   
  
"Cho," came her maid of honor's chirpy voice from the other side of the door, "the photographer's here. Everyone's waiting for you."  
  
"Not now. Harry and I are busy."  
  
"But we're running late."  
  
"Didn't you hear what I said? We're busy right now." She stared at Harry once more, her eyes filled with tears. "I knew it. I just knew it." She got up from the chair and began to pace around the room. "I wondered if I was making the right decision when I told her not to come. But I now know I did the right thing."  
  
"What?" asked Harry, who had been watching her walk back and forth in front of him, observing as she half tripped on the long material of the gown, almost ripping the delicate fabric with the heel of her shoe. "You told her not to come to the wedding?"  
  
"I didn't say that," Cho snapped back. "I just told her I didn't think it was right if she stood next to you. She's the one who decided not to attend the wedding."  
  
"When did this take place?"  
  
Cho continued to walk to the other end of the room. "This morning. She was at Highlands. We were talking and I told her she shouldn't be in the wedding party. I told her…" She paused and took a deep breath. "I told her you and I decided her dress wouldn't fit with the rest of the bridal party."  
  
Harry suddenly remembered his earlier discussion with Hermione. Everything she had said earlier was suddenly beginning to make sense to him. She had actually been talking about her encounter with Cho all along, he thought. He squeezed his eyes shut, wishing he had known what was bothering her.   
  
He then turned his gaze towards his future bride. "Why would you do something like that?" His hands began to curl into a fist and he found himself getting to his feet. "Why the hell would you do something like that?" he asked again, his voice a lot louder and forceful than before; forceful enough to make her stop walking and stare at him. "Do you realize the amount of trouble I went through to get her to...how could you do that?"   
  
She gave him an equally angry and defiant glare. "That's the only thing I could do. I couldn't risk her being up there with you while the minister asked if you wanted to marry me or not."  
  
Harry drew his brows together. "Why not? You think I'd say 'no' if she was standing right next to me?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
They were now facing one another, each one with a determined expression in their eyes. But Harry was the first to look away. "Why would you think that?"   
  
"Because you love her," she screamed. Her right hand swept along the vanity, knocking bottles and makeup to the floor. Her chest was now heaving in and out as she stared back at him. Harry stepped back when a bottle of face powder rolled towards him, spilling out its contents onto the carpet. "Do you think I was going to stand there," she said, "and risk you changing your mind at the last minute and humiliating me in front of everyone?"   
  
He reached out his hand to her, and opened his mouth in an attempt to say he could and would never do that to her, but she cut him off. "I know how you feel about her," she went on. "I've known for nearly two years now." A tear swelled from her eyes and trickled down her cheek, her mascara running down with it. "I see you guys when you're together, the little looks you give one another. I always knew Hermione had feelings for you. I could see that from the very beginning. But it wasn't until recently that I realized you…" She lowered her head as more tears flowed from her eyes. "You love her too."  
  
Harry brought his hand to her hips. "Cho—"  
  
"Shut up," she yelled and slapped his fingers away. "I've seen the evidence for myself. I've always noticed the way you acted around her. I tried to ignore it until we went out to dinner with her and Krum. Usually in circumstances like that, the women would talk to each other and the men would wound up talking about sports. But you spent the whole night whispering to Hermione, while I had to try to maintain a conversation with Krum."   
  
She took a step backwards, moving away from his outstretched hand. "And I saw the way you were staring at her, touching her face every now and then. But what tipped me off was when you didn't tell me about her attending the party and you going to her house in the middle of the nigh—" She stepped on her bottle of lotion and lost her balance, falling backwards.  
  
Harry rushed to her side. But he didn't reach her in time and she hit her head against the wall with a thud. "Are you okay?" he asked, kneeling down and wrapping his arms around her waist, as he tried to help her up.  
  
"Leave me alone!" She pushed him away and remained on the floor, rubbing her head with her hand, the fabric of her gown billowing up around her body and surrounding her like a fluffy cloud.   
  
"Cho?" came a loud voice from the other side of the door. "Are you okay honey?"  
  
Just then the door creaked open and Cho's mother poked her head into the room. "Harry," she said, "what are you doing here? What's going on in—" Her hand lifted to her mouth, when she caught sight of her daughter lying on the floor, with traces of blood on the palm of her right hand. "What happened?" Before anyone could answer, Mrs. Chang pushed the door open and walked into the room. Her hand went immediately to her daughter's face, her fingers lightly touching her cheeks and wiping away the tears. "Honey, what's going on? Emma said she heard some shouting in here."   
  
Cho lowered her head. Her long hair, which was now a disheveled mass, fell to her face. Mrs. Chang turned around to Harry. "What happened?" she asked him, her dark eyes pleading with him for some answers, seeing as that her daughter was not willing to give her an explanation. "Did you push her?"  
  
Harry continued to stare down at her, and then at Cho, who was now whimpering. He swiveled his head to the door, where the bridesmaids were now gathered, each one trying to get a look into the room and at the injured bride to be.   
  
"He pushed Cho?" one of the bridesmaids whispered to another.   
  
"Who pushed Cho?" came the screechy voice from behind the crowd of women. Olga shoved the bridesmaids aside and made her way into the room. She gasped, her large eyes getting bigger as they rested on Cho. Then her gaze traveled to the carpet, eyeing the spilt containers of makeup and broken glass. She then stared at Harry. But unlike Mrs. Chang, she did not ask him any questions about what had happened. She lifted her hand in the air, her palm facing him.  
  
Harry opened his mouth to say something, but felt an incredible force strike him in the chest, pushing him backwards. Fortunately for him, he fell back into the deep cushions of the chair he'd been sitting on earlier. "I didn't do anything to her," he said. "I love her too much."  
  
"Olga stop," said Cho, before the house-elf had a chance to knock Harry once more with her magic.  
  
Olga did not lower her hand, keeping it directed at Harry, who was now struggling to breathe while the pressure on his chest intensified, as it tried to force him to the other end of the room. But he was able to hold onto the chair for support.  
  
Cho wearily got up from the floor, and approached the house-elf. She grabbed Olga's arm, forcing it down. "He didn't do anything to me," she said. "I just tripped on one of these bottles and hit my head against the wall."   
  
"What were you guys talking about?" asked the young woman who had flirted with Harry earlier. Her eyes were glued to him, although her question was directed at Cho.   
  
Cho narrowed her eyes and glared at Eloise. "I don't think that's any of your business."  
  
The maid of honor placed her hands on Eloise's shoulders and pulled her out of the room. She then began to round up the other women, leading them back into the sitting room.  
  
Mrs. Chang approached her daughter, lifting her long violet gown a little off the floor, so the spilled face powder wouldn't soil the satin fabric. She placed a dainty and bejeweled hand on Cho's shoulder. "Honey," she said, in her sweetest voice, "are you sure nothing's wrong?"   
  
Cho made no response, just keeping her eyes centered on her bridesmaids as they walked away, whispering to one another and throwing her glances over their shoulder. She then lowered her head and brought her hand to her forehead. "God knows what they could be saying about me."  
  
"They're fine," Mrs. Chang shouted to the other women, "just a lover's quarrel. They'll kiss and make up shortly." She then leaned close to her daughter's ear and whispered, "Everything is fine between you guys, isn't it?" Her voice had suddenly lost the confidence and cheeriness that was there a moment earlier.   
  
Cho remained quiet.  
  
"Darling," Mrs. Chang said again, her tone lingering with some fright, "this is no time to be picking a fight with your future husband." She turned around and flashed Harry a nervous smile, before turning to Cho once more. "Whatever you could have done to start this argument, please fix it. And fast."   
  
Her hands reached for her daughter's hair, trying her best to straighten the strands with her fingers. After a few unsuccessful minutes of fumbling with the dark locks, Mrs. Chang pulled away. "I don't have time for this right now." She looked her daughter up and down, eyeing the dress that now had stains on it and a large rip along the side. "You can get your pictures taken after the ceremony." Just before she left the room, she glanced up at Harry. "I would get home if I were you. You need to get ready. And Olga, please fix her up, she's a mess."  
  
"Don't cry dear," murmured Olga, as she wrapped her tiny arms around Cho's waist. She then got up on her tips of her toes, her hand stretched out to Cho's face, her thin fingers wiping the young woman's cheeks. "I'll make you all pretty again." Her tiny hand curled around to the back of Cho's head, her fingers feeling their way around the spot that had banged against the wall. Cho suddenly moved back and winced in pain. "It's okay," said Olga. "The pain will soon be gone."  
  
After she had finished healing whatever wound was on the back of Cho's head, Olga then pointed her fingers at Cho's face. Slowly, the young woman's face was once again perfectly made up, her hair forming itself into a bun once more. "I don't know why you even bothered with putting those cosmetics on manually," she muttered. "This is much faster."   
  
Olga then glided her hand along Cho's dress, restoring the garment to the splendor that had been there before. She took a step back to inspect her work. "Great. You look beautiful. All I have to do now is get the veil and you'll be done."  
  
Cho pushed her away before she could conjure the veil from the closet. "Not now," she said, with a forlorn look on her face. "Harry and I still need some time to ourselves."  
  
The house-elf directed her gaze towards Harry, shooting him a warning look. "I don't know what was going on in here--"  
  
"I didn't do anything to her," he began. "I would never lay a hand on--"  
  
"Silence," Olga shouted, lifting her hand to the air once more.   
  
Harry, now fully aware of the house-elf's powers and still suffering from the throbbing that lingered in his chest, immediately sat back on the chair and quieted.   
  
"I believe you didn't do hit her," Olga said. "But I surely know that you upset her in some way. So, take this as a warning, Harry Potter, what you felt earlier is just a very small fraction of what I am capable of. I can unleash--"  
  
Cho brought her hand over her house-elf's mouth. "Can you just give us a minute? Please."  
  
Reluctantly, Olga made her way out of the room.  
  
Cho walked over to where Harry was seated, standing over him. He opened his mouth to say something, when she lifted her hand and slapped him across the face. The blow was a hard one, as he could feel the sting develop on his cheek almost immediately.   
  
After the slap, she continued to stand over him, her eyes narrowed, her breathing rapid. She then walked to the corner of the room, where she stood against the wall. She did not cry or yell at him, but stared down at the floor. He watched her the whole time she was there, but she would not return her gaze, as her head remained lowered, her eyes closed. Perhaps she was thinking of what to do next to him, or which heavy object she would throw at his head. Whatever it was, he knew he deserved it.   
  
After what seemed like an eternity of tense filled silence, she approached him again. Harry braced himself for another attack; he would not attempt to move out of the way if she did decide to hit him again, as he wanted to allow her to vent out her anger - even if she ended up hurting him.   
  
She stood just a foot away, her eyes closed, taking deep breaths. When she glanced at him again, Harry moved back in his chair, as the expression in those once lively almond shaped eyes were haunting. She finally sat in her chair, facing him. He reached out his hand to her and tried to touch her arm, but she stopped him.   
  
"Do you love her?" she asked. Her voice was now soft, almost as if she already knew the answer.  
  
Unlike before when he had to carefully consider his answer and the impact it would have on his life and on his fiancée's emotions, he now answered almost immediately. "Yes," Harry said, his voice full of conviction. As he heard that word escape his mouth, he suddenly felt free. Even the pain in his chest from Olga's magic ceased, as he was now able to breathe freely. "I love her."  
  
She didn't say anything, just staring at him, her face becoming more and more gloomy by the second. Her lower lip was now quivering and she was blinking rapidly, trying to fight off the wave of emotions that was taking over her body. But her fight was useless, as the tears soon began to trickle down her cheeks, ruining the brilliant job Olga had done with her makeup. Her hands lifted to her face and she slumped down in her seat.   
  
Harry got out of his chair and knelt in front of her. He timidly stretched out his arms to her, but unlike last time when she had met his touch with scorn and disgust, she fell into his embrace, welcoming his warm caresses and allowing him to pull her into his body. She rested her head on his shoulder as she cried. Harry closed his eyes, as he was soon affected by the sounds that now echoed in his ears, crashing against his eardrums.   
  
He tightened his arms around her, as he too was now overcome by the same emotions. "I'm sorry," he muttered. "I didn't mean to do this to you." As the words came out of his mouth, he felt something warm run down his face, trickling into the corner of his mouth, where he was able to taste the saltiness.   
  
Resting his face in the sloping curve of her neck, he was able to detect the gentle fragrance of her perfume. He was suddenly reminded of the many nights he had enjoyed making love to her as that same scent flooded his nostrils. Those had been some happy times for him, as he lay under that canopy, the light of the moon casting a silvery glow over the bed and on their naked bodies.   
  
Harry thought back to the times he had been on top of her during their numerous sexual encounters, his mouth slightly opened as he moaned, his eyes squeezed shut as he awaited the inevitable shred of ecstasy, the little death that would cascade throughout his entire body. Of course he concentrated on Cho's body, but he knew the image that always triggered his orgasm was of another dark haired young woman as she lay on the floor of the Astronomy Tower, her eyes large and glistening with desire, her skin made radiant by the glow of the many stars twinkling over her naked body.   
  
His hand moved along her back, as he tried to comfort her and himself with gentle words. But in the end, he soon grew quiet, as he found it harder to talk; he was now in the same state as she. They remained in that position long after their emotions had subsided, their arms around each other, their bodies rocking back in forth. Cho was the first to pull away. She merely stared into his eyes, not saying anything. And then her hand lifted to her face and wiped her tears.   
  
"Why did you ask me to marry you?" she asked, her voice scratchy and barely audible.  
  
Harry sat back on the floor, bringing his hand to his head, as he contemplated the question, not expecting she would ask him something of that nature. "Because...I love you." He winced and looked away, knowing his words must have sounded unconvincing, especially after he had professed to loving Hermione. He glanced up at her face, observing the look in her eyes. "I really do love you. I wouldn't have asked you to marry me if I didn't want to spend the rest of my life with you."  
  
"Do you think we could possibly do that after what's just happened?"  
  
Harry pulled back. "What are you saying?"  
  
Cho lifted her hand to her head, undoing the tight bun. "You just admitted to being in love with Hermione. Do you think we can now go on like nothing happened?" She placed her elbows on her thighs, lowering her face into her hands. "This is my worst nightmare come true."  
  
They were quiet once more, as either one waited for the other to say the words they were both thinking at that moment, but did not want to hear. Her head remained lowered, as she sneaked glances at him every so often.  
  
But a loud banging on the door soon broke their silence. "Cho," said Mrs. Chang, "the guests are already starting to arrive." She paused for a moment, as she waited for an answer from her daughter. "Darling, did you hear me?"  
  
"What do you want to do?" Harry asked.   
  
"I really don't kno--" She rapidly turned her head to the door. "Mother, please go away!" She continued to watch the door, waiting until she heard the woman on the other side begin to walk away, before talking once more. "I know I'll feel like a liar if went out there like nothing happened. I can't stand in front of those people and declare my undying love for you after this." She brought her hand to her head, rubbing her temples in a circular motion. "Oh my God, my head hurts."  
  
"Let me help you," said Harry as he got up from his seated position and stood behind her. He reached for her head and began to massage her temples, his fingers gingerly grazing her skin. She relaxed into his touch and he could soon hear her signing softly to herself as his fingers worked their way around her head, releasing her from the throbbing that was once there.  
  
"I didn't mean to do it," she muttered, her eyes half closed.   
  
He stopped rubbing her head for just that moment. "Do what?"  
  
"Tell Hermione not to come. When we were in that restaurant, sitting across from each other, I couldn't stop thinking about how the two of you felt about one another. I just couldn't risk it Harry. I wanted you all to myself, and couldn't risk--" She brought her hands to her face.  
  
"I'm sorry," Harry whispered, as his fingers moved to her neck, trying to assuage her emotions. "I never meant for it to be like this. I never wanted to hurt you."  
  
"But why didn't you tell me earlier? You should have said something in the beginning, before we started our relationship." Her voice broke for a moment, getting harder and harder to understand. But she soon regained the composure for which she was well known. "All this time, I've been walking around feeling insecure because I felt I had to compete with her. That's why I've always been...overly protective of you."   
  
She let out a bitter laugh, and so did Harry. He thought back to all the times she had kept him under a watchful eye, always wanting to know where and with whom he would be going out. At first, he felt flattered that someone would love him so much as to constantly worry about his welfare, but of late the attention was beginning to ignite his nerves, causing some of their most fiery arguments.   
  
He bitterly recalled an explosive episode at his house a few months earlier, just several days after he had graduated from Hogwarts. Ron, his ever present partner in crime and a catalyst for nearly all of their arguments, had come over to take him out for a few drinks at the pubs in Hogsmeade to commemorate that happy occasion. Of course Cho didn't like the idea of him spending the whole night with the lads and insisted he stay home. What happened next was a heated confrontation between the engaged couple, as he said a few things to her that he had been holding back for all that time, commenting on what a bossy jail warden she was. Having been confronted by him - in front of a snickering Ron, no less - Cho fled to the bedroom. In the end, Harry never went out with the lads and had to spend the night on the couch.   
  
"I've always wanted you with me," she continued, "because I feared losing you. I thought you'd go and seek out Hermione. I didn't like myself when I acted that way because I know that's not the way I really am."  
  
Harry tilted her head backwards and placed a few light kisses on her forehead. "I'm sorry I made you act that way," he murmured against her skin. He was about to say more, when he heard talking coming from the other side of the door. From the sounds of it, he expected the entire bridal party and Chang clan were waiting outside, probably wondering what was happening and whether they should break down the door.  
  
Although his own heart was beating fast, as he now didn't know what to do, the look on Cho's face remained calm and at ease. She slowly got up from the chair and approached the vanity, grabbing a few tissues to wipe away the wet tears that still remained on her face. She then turned around and faced him. "Do you want to do it or shall I?" she asked.  
  
"Do what?"  
  
"Tell them the wedding's off."  
  
Harry's eyes grew wide, as he never imagined he would hear those words escape her mouth. And that her expression was so calm surprised him even more. He approached her and took her hands. "Are you sure about this--"  
  
"Why would you even ask me that? I love you, but I can't marry a man who's heart is not entirely with me." She began to fan her face with her hands, as if trying to keep her eyes from watering once more. "As much as I would have enjoyed being a Quidditch wife, I don't think I can go through with this." She placed her hand against his chest, right over his heart, which was beating erratically. "Us getting married will not make this issue go away. It'll just make it worse. And I wouldn't want to bring up children in that kind of environment."  
  
Harry pulled her hand away from his chest and brought it to his lips. He wanted to fall to his knees at that moment, and grab her around the waist, thanking her for what she had done. Deep down, he loved her, he really did, he told himself. And he had wanted to marry her and start a family; the family he never had, the family that would replace all the horrible thoughts of the Dursleys from his mind. But then again, he had clung to her because he was running away from something. The idea of marrying her had seemed so appealing because then - he hoped - he would be free from Hermione and the power that drew him to her, causing him to venture to her home during the middle of the night.   
  
Surely he had thought of calling off the wedding, but he had never uttered these words to anyone. Laying awake at night, while her arms wrapped around his waist, he would contemplate telling her he wasn't ready for marriage. But looking down at her angelic face as she swept, he couldn't bring himself to hurt her, to destroy all her hopes and dreams of a happy future with him.   
  
"Are you mad at me?" he finally asked.  
  
"I'm angry at you, at Hermione and especially with myself." She pulled her hand away from his lips and brought them to her side. "But I guess in the end, it had to happen. I don't want us to be in a loveless marriage, where we don't trust one another."  
  
She grabbed him by the waist and pulled him into her body. "I'm really not that mad," she continued. "I'm just sad it had to end like this. I really thought we'd be happy together. But I want you to be happy. I want you to play Quidditch, and find love in your life again...." Harry could see that her face was beginning to tense, and she glanced away from him just then. "Maybe you'll find love with her," she said in a bitter voice, barely audible.  
  
"And what will you do with yourself?"  
  
Cho dropped her head and looked down at the gown, the same one that had brought her so much excitement as she walked about the boutique, showing it off to all her bridesmaids. "Who knows?"  
  
Harry looked at her with disbelief for a moment. She was normally so optimistic of her future. He then went to the small table, where his picture lay upside down. He lifted the picture of himself and brought it to her. "I want this for you," he said. "I want you to pursue your dreams." His hand traveled to her hair, pushing it behind her ear. "I always thought you were an excellent athlete. And now that we're not getting....well, I want you to try out for the Bats."  
  
Her expression remained sad, looking as though his words had not been convincing enough. "What if we have to face off against one another?" she asked.  
  
"That won't matter to me. The only thing that will bring me a lot of joy would be to see you force Draco off the team. I know if you tried out, they'd see how wonderful you are and give you the position."  
  
She took the picture from his hands and looked down at it. "I'll think about it," she said in a weak voice.  
  
They were quiet then, as Harry tried to digest what had just happened during the course of that time. He had never imagined things would end up like this, but it was now a blessing. However, his happiness was only overshadowed by how guilty he felt about hurting her, causing her so much pain for all those years. He wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close. He didn't say anything, only enjoying the feel of her body for what he assumed would be the last time.  
  
"I love you," he finally said. "I always will. You know that, don't you?" He watched as she nodded her head. And with that, he pulled away.   
  
She remained where she was, leaning against the vanity, with her head lowered. "By the way," she called out, "could you tell everyone I want to be left alone? I don't think I can face everyone's questions just right now."  
  
"Sure," he replied. He then made his way to the door. 


	9. What Are You Going to do Now?

Chapter 9: What are you going to do now?  
  
  
  
Harry slowly turned the doorknob. He then glanced over his shoulder at Cho; she was still leaning against the vanity, her face looking gloomy. He dropped his head for a second, thinking how only an hour ago, he was prepared to marry and spend what he hoped would be his entire life with her.   
  
He closed his eyes and wondered if he would have been faithful during their marriage. "Yes," he told himself, thinking how had been able to keep away from the other woman in his life for all those years without any problems - of course there had been moments of uncertainty along the way, as when Hermione wore an article of clothing that excited him.   
  
Surely in those two years he had been with Cho, he had ample opportunities to have a sexual tryst or two with Hermione; they could easily have slipped into one of the spare bedrooms in his mansion while Cho busied herself in the kitchen - supervising Dobby on the preparation of the meals. And during their last year at Hogwarts, when Cho was nowhere in sight, he and Hermione could have satisfied all their sexual cravings with passionate rendezvous in the Astronomy Tower or any one of the many abandoned classrooms in the school. He could have done many things with Ms. Granger during those times, but he was able to control himself.   
  
However, the smug smile that was on his lips as he congratulated himself for being able to suppress his urges began to disappear when he thought of how he had recently started to lose his willpower; most recently after his stag party, when he stood with Hermione on the street corner, while her perfume enraptured his senses and pulled him closer to her. He was sure he would have kissed her; the kiss she gave him earlier had opened up the flood gates, forcing his desires to the surface and bringing back memories of that ill fated night when he lay her on the floor, his lips roaming her hot skin and traveling along the curves and hills of her body.   
  
But the totality of his lust didn't completely surface until he was at her flat, with his chest pressed against her back as she stood in her kitchen washing that tiny cup repeatedly. It was true he had left her unexpectedly that night because he wanted to get back to Cho before the thrumming noise of his watch made his eardrums explode, but he had other reasons for disapparating without saying goodbye; more private reasons. Standing so close to her and being able to freely run his hands up and down her body without risk of getting caught by Cho was such a novel and thrilling experience, that it excited him, arousing his organs.   
  
He had then apparated onto the street corner where he had encountered Seamus. Leaning against a building, he took deep breaths as he waited for his excitement, which was clearly visible from the front of his slacks, to wane.   
  
But what if he had stayed, he pondered. He could easily have taken Hermione into his arms and carried her to her bedroom. However, he doubted he would have been able to wait until they reached her bed; since his appetite was quite high at that moment, he probably would have taken her right there in the kitchen. He then imagined taking off her clothes to reveal that taunt body underneath. His hands would then reach for areas of her body he had not had the pleasure of exploring for many years: her breasts and…other places.  
  
The orgasm, he thought, would surely be explosive, as his craving for her had been building for all those years. He imagined their moans wafting through the small flat, awakening her two roommates and even forcing her cat to take notice. It had been a long time since he had heard those wails of ecstasy escape her mouth. A smile formed onto the corner of his lips as he imagined her cries echoing in his ears, while her fingernails clawed his back.  
  
But Harry was quickly pulled back into the present, as he berated himself for having such erotic thoughts. He slowly opened the door, only wide enough to allow him to squeeze out, as he did not want anyone to witness Cho while she was still in that emotional state. But the moment he took a step outside the room and found himself surround by the group of people, he was overwhelmed by a sudden urge to walk back into the dressing room. In addition to Cho's mother, bridesmaids and surly house-elf - who glanced at him with large sad eyes, which looked as though she knew what he would announce to the crowd - was Cho's father.  
  
Everyone stayed quiet, their eyes glued to him as they waited for him to explain what had been occurring in the room for the past hour. Mr. Chang took a step forward, the expression in his eyes matching that of Olga's. He placed a hand on Harry's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. As those dark eyes stared back at him, Harry suddenly felt at ease; the other man always had an easy way about him that seemed to relax even the most frazzled of nerves. His wife, on the other hand, had a way of making people feel nervous.   
  
Harry recalled the summer after his sixth year, when Cho had invited him to the manor to meet her parents for the first time. Sitting in their grand dining room, as their house-elves served them a ten-course meal - half of which he didn't eat nor could he pronounce - was daunting to say the least. But it did not compare to the round of questioning that flew from Mrs. Chang's mouth, as she inquired about his personal life. He had stayed quiet, lowering his head and twirling his duck liver around on his place, as he was unable and a little embarrassed to answer such direct questions. It was not until Mr. Chang took Harry into his study, that the young man was finally able to feel at ease; Cho's father never pressured him to talk, only preferring to smoke his pipe as Harry wandered the room, eyeing his massive collection of books.  
  
"Is there something you'd like to tell us Harry?" Mr. Cho asked.  
  
Harry opened his mouth to utter the statement that would devastate the crowd, when Mrs. Chang pushed her husband out of the way. "Of course there's nothing he wants to say." She shot her husband a stern glance, before turning her attention back to Harry, looking at him up and down. "There's no time for you to go home and change. I'll just have to send Olga to your place so she can get your suit from you servant. What's his name again?" Before Harry could respond, she swiveled her head to where the old house-elf was standing. "Olga," she said snapping her fingers in the air, "I want you to go to Potter Manor" (Harry immediately took a step back when he heard that his house had already been christened with a name) "and get Harry's tux."   
  
The feisty house-elf looked up, her face suddenly flooding with alarm. The sadness disappeared from her eyes and was replaced with a glare Harry had become extremely familiar with. But Mrs. Chang paid no attention to Olga's apparent disdain of having to deal with Dobby, and continued talking. "And tell Harry's best man--" She turned to Harry just then. "His name is Ron, is it not?"  
  
Harry nodded.  
  
"The same one who brought those two girls to your house?" Her lip began to curl into a grimace. Her hand rose to her face, as she shook her head. "Let's just hope he's more appropriately dressed this time and conducts himself like a gentl--" She quickly looked to her left and right, throwing all of the bridesmaids a disgruntled glance. "And what are all of you standing around here for? You need to get to the gazebo immediately."  
  
Before she could shoo everyone out of the room, Mr. Chang grabbed her arm and said, "Darling, I think Harry would like to say something to us."  
  
All of the bridesmaids made their way back from the door, as they were curious to hear what he had to say; so they could spread the news to the entire town, Harry thought. He had been so preoccupied with watching Cho's mother bully everyone, that he had lost his train of thought and courage. He took a deep breath, as he watched Mrs. Chang cross her arms tightly against her chest, throwing him nervous smiles every so often and tapping her foot on the carpet - the same tapping her daughter did when she was irritated.  
  
Harry reached behind him and felt for the doorknob with his fingers. Then without saying a word, he escaped back into Cho's dressing room.   
  
Cho, who had now changed out of her gown, gasped when she saw him. "What are you doing back here?" she asked.  
  
Harry retreated back to his chair, giving out a sigh when he felt that it was still warm. "I just couldn't do it. I couldn't get the words out of my mouth." His hand flittered to his forehead, as the throbbing intensified. "After I tell them the news, I'll have to go downstairs and tell all the guests and then go home and tell Ron and everyone else." He closed his eyes and let a moan escape his mouth. "I can't deal with this right now. It's too much."  
  
"You don't have to tell them anything," Cho said as she sat on the arm of his chair, her fingers twirling around his hair. "I can go out there and announce the news to them."  
  
Harry glanced up at her. "I don't want you to have to tell your own family. I'll do it."  
  
"No, it's okay. If you tell them, they'll come in here and ask me more questions anyway." She got up and walked back to the corner of the room, where there laid a large box. "Most of the people who've already arrived for the ceremony are my aunts and uncles, so I can tell them as well."  
  
She began to stuff her wedding dress into the box, before placing an anti-wrinkle spell on it. With her wand still in her hand, she walked around the room, twirling the instrument around her fingers. She then pointed the wand at his portrait, causing his image to disappear. The picture that took its place was one of her, dressed in her Ravenclaw Quidditch outfit.   
  
"I've decided to give Quidditch another go," she said. "I'm sending the team's manager an owl later today." She turned around and faced Harry. "It will feel so good to be flying again. But I don't think I'll feel comfortable playing against you though. What am I saying? I don't even know if they'll take me--" She stopped talking as her gaze fell on the distant expression that was in Harry's eyes. Her fingers outstretched, she gently touched his face.   
  
Harry almost jumped out of his seat when he felt her fingers gliding along his cheek. He had only been half listening to what she was saying, too consumed with the reaction he would get from the Weasleys, his godfather and others at his house when he told them the wedding was off. Dobby of course would be distraught, probably blaming himself for the cancellation, as he knew that Olga and Cho did not look fondly upon him. Dean, Harry guessed, would be ecstatic as he now had an opportunity to make a move on the newly single Cho.   
  
"Are you okay?" she asked.  
  
Harry remained quiet for a moment, before talking. "Are you going to start dating Dean now that we're no longer getting married?"  
  
"What? Is that what you were thinking about when I was talking to you just now?" She then pushed her hair out of her face and gave him a stern look. "You and I just broke up. Why do you think I would be so quick to start looking for another boyfriend?"  
  
Harry glanced away, ashamed at himself for asking her such an inappropriate question. He would have said he was sorry, but she began talking almost immediately. "I don't know," she said, her tone becoming soft once more. "He was really nice to me. But I don't want to think about that right now. I'm not ready for anyone else at this moment. I still have to get over you first." There was a long pause and then, "Are you thinking about getting together with--" She stopped talking, as she already knew the answer to the question. "If you guys do get together, please keep it quiet. News of our breakup is already going to be plastered on the front pages of all the newspapers. I just don't think I can handle reading about you and Hermione dating. So just keep it to yourselves for a couple of months. Allow me some time to grieve before you make anything public."  
  
Without looking up, Harry reached for her hand, feeling along her legs until he met her fingers. He wished he had something else to say to her at that moment, but he stayed quiet, allowing the gentle caresses of his fingers against her skin to communicate what he couldn't. He glanced up at her then, looking into her eyes, when he heard Mr. Chang's voice.   
  
"Hello," said Cho's father, his voice sounding uncomfortable - Harry guessed Mrs. Chang had pressured him to say something. "Are you guys okay in there? Some people out here are worried about you."  
  
Cho walked to the door. "I guess they have to know sooner or later," she said. She then stepped out of the room and faced the crowd.   
  
Harry could have gone home then, as everything was now finalized between them, but he continued to sit in his chair and waited until she was done telling everyone the news. He leaned forward, straining to hear what she was saying. He could hear the faint sound of her voice as it wafted from the other side of the door. Then there was a long silence. He guessed the crowd was digesting the announcement. But the silence went on for far too long, arousing his curiosity and causing him to get up from his chair and walk to the door. But before he had a chance to press his ear against it, he heard a loud rumble from the other side.   
  
He quickly opened the door, witnessing how everyone was now crowded around Mr. Chang, who was holding his wife's limp body in his arms. Cho glanced at him and made a face. "My mum fainted," she said. "She likes to be dramatic."  
  
Mr. Chang placed his wife on the bed, taking out a small vial from his pocket and holding it under her nose.   
  
Harry leaned close to Cho's ear and asked, "Is she going to be all right?"  
  
"She'll be fine. But I probably won't hear the last of it." Cho draped an arm around his shoulder and whispered, "Why don't you go home? I can handle everything here."  
  
"Are you sure? I can stick around if you want." Harry pulled back so he could get a good look at her eyes and make sure she wasn't still angry with him. "If you need help telling everyon--"  
  
"Don't worry about it. I've got everything under control." She turned around to look at her mother, who was stirring on the bed, mumbling incoherently. She faced Harry once more. "I'll just send out an owl to all the other guests letting them know the wedding is off."  
  
Before he left, Harry wrapped his arms around Cho's waist and pulled her into a hug. "I know you're going to make the team," he uttered. "I look forward to seeing you out on the pitch."   
  
~*~*~  
  
Harry did not go back home, but apparated in the Chang family's garden. He looked up at the clear sky and witnessed a cloud of small owls gliding through the air on their way to tell all the guests that the wedding was called off. He lowered his head and continued down the long cobble walkway. He was about to head to the manor's grand ballroom and take a glimpse of what his reception would have looked like, when a billow of smoke coming from behind a tree caught his attention. Just then, a man dressed in black walked out from where he was hiding. Harry squinted at the figure. Although the man's face was half obscured by his long black hair, Harry could still make out who he was.   
  
"Professor," he called out.   
  
The cigarette fell out of the man's mouth as he swiveled his head towards Harry. The two watched one another in silence for a long time. Harry would have said more, but he was too overcome with surprise that his former professor had actually come to his wedding. But just as he opened his mouth to utter some gratitude on behalf of his godfather, the man disapparated.  
  
Harry shook his head, wondering why Snape was hiding behind a tree. But he suddenly looked up in alarm, as he imagined his old professor being up to no good. Perhaps he was just there to curse everyone, he thought, thinking that something of that nature was not beneath the surly man, who remained cold towards him even during his graduation ceremony.   
  
~*~*~  
  
Harry apparated at Potter Manor, but near the lake; he was too nervous to step into the house and have to re-tell the whole story of why he and Cho broke if off. But he knew he would eventually have to say something, and paced around on the lawn thinking of an excuse. "We both decided that we're too young to get married," he said, as he rehearsed what he would say to his guests.   
  
He walked up to the window of the kitchen and observed the people inside. He surveyed the living room, finding all of the Weasleys sitting on the sofas. They all seemed so happy, as they laughed and talked to one another. Everyone was dressed in his or her best dress robes, looking impeccable - they had no doubt used the advance the Cannons had given Ron to buy the new clothes. He then watched as Molly began to yell at the twins, her finger pointed at their hats, which displayed a flashing advertisement for their shop.   
  
Seeing them gathered together reminded him of all the Sunday dinners at the Burrow, half of which he had missed over the past couple of weeks because of his former fiancée. An invitation to join the family was always given to Cho, as Mrs. Weasley was anxious to get better acquainted with the woman; but Cho always refused, forcing Harry to make up some lame excuse to explain her absence. Ron would always sit on the edge of the large backyard table, his mouth full of ham and snort to himself whenever he heard Harry explain to his family how Cho was not feeling well that day.   
  
Harry's attention was then drawn to the corner of the room, where Percy sat with Penelope. He watched the couple as they sneaked quick kisses when no one was looking in their direction. Seeing Penelope at his house, Harry's eyes darted around the room in search of the woman's roommate, hoping to see her in that dazzling blue dress. Although he caught a glimpse of Hannah sitting near the stairs, there was no sign of Hermione anywhere in the house.   
  
He took a step backwards when he saw a small owl fly towards the house and drop a letter from its beak into the fireplace. The letter fell into the lap of Authur Weasley. Harry walked away then, not wanting to see their reaction, or the disappointment that would probably be on their faces when Mr. Weasley read the letter to everyone.  
  
He continued walking around the garden, stepping on some flowers in the process. He made his way to the bench where he and his godfather had once sat, when someone placed a hand on his shoulder. Harry closed his eyes, thinking he didn't want to turn around and find himself facing one of the Weasleys, as he was in no mood to explain things anymore. "I just want to be left alone right now," he said, without glancing over his shoulder. "Maybe some time later, I'll tell you guys what really happened. But right now, I don't feel much like talking."  
  
"If that's what you want," said Authur, "I'll leave you alone."  
  
Harry listened to the man's footsteps as the walked away. But he turned around and chased after him, grabbing his arm and preventing him from heading back to the house. "I'm sorry about that," Harry said. "It's just that it's very hard for me to talk about it right now."  
  
"That's okay. You don't have to say anything if you don't want to. I just came over here to see if you were all right."  
  
A look of alarm now spread on Harry's face, as he glanced back at the house. "So everyone knows I'm here?" He then closed his eyes and imagined the whole family running out to him, surround him as they all took turns asking him questions, with the twins throwing in their sarcastic comments of "Tell us the truth Harry. You couldn't stand her, now could you?"  
  
"No," said Authur. "I'm the only one who saw you through the window. The rest of them are still in there re-reading the announcement."  
  
Harry dropped his head. "I don't even want to know what they could be saying right now. The twins are probably in there making jokes about the whole thing."  
  
"Why would you think that? No one's judging you. And no one is making any jokes. We weren't ever talking about why you guys called off the marriage. We were all wondering where you could be and the state you were probably in. That's why I wanted to come out here and see you."  
  
"I'm sorry." Harry then began to kick the small pebbles near his feet. "I know none of you would ever laugh at my misfortune. I'm just a little stressed right--" He snapped his head towards Authur, his eyes widening. "Does Sirius know? I don't remember seeing him when I looked through the window."  
  
"I'm not sure. He's still looking around his new house. But I think he's probably heard the news by now because I saw an owl drop a letter in one of his chimneys as well." He turned his head towards the guesthouse. "That's a nice thing you're doing there for him--hey, did you know he could walk?" But he didn't wait for Harry's answer and began to talk once more. "What am I saying? Of course you knew."  
  
"What did Ron say about the whole thing?" Harry held his breath, as he was more than a little terrified to hear his friend's take on the cancellation. Surely Ron must have had some insight on what was going on between him and Hermione all those years, since he was the one that brought up the subject the night before.  
  
"I'm not sure. He went back to his place a while ago to get ready. Neville went with him too."   
  
Harry began to take nervous glances towards the house, wondering if he should head back there with Mr. Weasley. It would be rude, he thought, of him not to at least say 'hello' to the family members. Detecting the terrified expression that was looming in Harry's eyes, Authur said, "You don't have to go in there. I'll just tell everyone you need some time to yourself. They'll understand." He then began to make his way to the house.  
  
As Harry watched him tread back to the large doors where Mrs. Weasley was now standing, he decided he couldn't spend the rest of the day walking around in the garden. His gaze traveled to the guesthouse where his godfather was at that moment. The urge to run to the house and confide in the other man was great, but he held back; he didn't want to burden Sirius with his problems.   
  
He began to make his way to the front of the house, to get away from the prying eyes of the Weasley clan, whose faces were now pressed against various windows, as they all tried to get a glimpse at him. With his head lowered, he passed the beautifully maintained bushes, when he heard some giggling at his right. Harry looked up to see Percy and Penelope kissing at the front steps. He stopped walking and stared at them, his eyes narrowed as he mentally cursed them for flaunting their happiness.  
  
"They should be looking for me," Harry said to himself, "and wondering if I'm okay." But he soon realized they had a right to be happy. He wanted to turn around and give them their privacy, but he couldn't look away. He continued to watch their lips move against one another, giving them want he imagined was pure sensual enjoyment. He wished he could enjoy the same kind of passion with a certain elusive young woman who didn't even bother to show up.  
  
Percy turned around and nearly took a step backwards when he saw him staring at them. "We didn't think anyone was around," he said. He lowered his head, as his cheeks became enflamed. Penelope brought her hand to her temples, hiding the expression on her face.  
  
Harry looked away, as he was suddenly enveloped with embarrassment for his voyeurism. When he had composed himself, he glanced up at the couple, his eyes darting from Percy's face to Penelope's and back again. He could tell by the pained expressions on their faces that they were both uncertain as to what to say to him. He then saw the curly haired young woman nudge her boyfriend with her elbow, prompting him to speak.  
  
"Are you okay?" Percy asked, breaking the awkwardness that had grown between them.  
  
Harry couldn't bring himself to utter a word and simply nodded.   
  
Percy then glanced down at his girlfriend, their eyes communicating to one another. After some deliberation, he turned back to Harry. "Do you mind if we take a walk around your property for a while?"  
  
"Sure," Harry managed to say. His eyes then stayed fixed on them as they made their way to the orchard, which was ripe and fragrant with fruit. He then observed the way they held each other's hand, their bodies pressed close together as they walked. He and Cho had been that happy once, he thought. His hand then trickled to the inside of his coat pocket, as he pulled out the hotel reservations that lay within. He ran after the couple, reaching them before they got too far. "I want you to have this," he said, handing the reservations to Percy, "since Cho and I have no need for it anymore."  
  
He watched as Percy and Penelope both looked down at the slip of paper with awe in their eyes.   
  
"The hotel is very nice," he continued. "There's a great view of the ocean from every window and the service is just spectacular." The Wyndham Hotel in Barbados was indeed a wonderful place; everything from the sounds of the crashing waves that billowed into the rooms, bidding good morning to young and old lovers alike as they awoke from a night of passion, to the sensual massage seminars was conducive to love making and any other hormonally driven activity imaginable.  
  
"Everything is taken care of," said Harry, "so you guys don't have to pay for anything. You can even go on a shopping trip if you want. The hotel has a large boutique on the fifth floor."  
  
Harry's gaze darted to Penelope, whose eyes were lit up. But it was the austere grimace spreading on Percy's face that caught his attention. "I don't think we can accept this," Percy said. "I know this trip much have cost you a fortune, and with my salary..." He looked down at his shoes for a moment. "There's no way I could repay you, even with my raise."  
  
Harry could understand Percy being uncomfortable with the issue of money; although he was now promoted to a supervisor position at work, he was still not paid a lot. And it bothered him somewhat that his three younger brothers made a far better living than he.   
  
"You don't have to pay me back," Harry said, carefully choosing his words so he would not offend the proud man. "I just figured you and Penelope could use a break, since you guys have been working so hard in the Ministry. Your father tells me your department has managed twice as much work as last quarter."   
  
"Yes," said Percy, as he began to rub his chin. "We've been working harder now that I'm in charge." He glanced down at Penelope and smiled. "Perhaps we do need the break." He reached out his hand and gave Harry a firm handshake. Penelope was less formal with her thanks and gave him a kiss on the cheek.   
  
Harry began to walk away, feeling somewhat happier with himself, when he heard Penelope call out his name. "Just thought you might like to know that Hermione is still at home," she said. "She's not leaving until tonight."  
  
~*~*~  
  
Harry appeared in the hallway of his friend's building. He approached the door and was about to knock, but doubted anyone would be home at that moment. But as he began to walk away, he heard some voices coming from the other end of the door. He rang the doorbell.  
  
"Harry," said Neville. "What on earth are you doing here?" He then moved out of the way and let the green-eyed man into the penthouse flat. "They probably sent you over to see why Ron and I are still not ready. I'm sorry, but we're running a little late. He's been in that bathroom getting ready for over an hour now. He refuses to get out of there until he's completely done."  
  
Harry walked into Ron's living room, looking around the place. He had only been to his friend's home when there was little to no furniture in the flat, except for the bed, of course. But now the flat was completely furnished with a black leather couch and chairs. The carpet was a thick and wooly white, with black and white checkered rugs under the glass topped dining room and coffee table. The place had the sophistication that Ron had always wanted and often tried a little too hard to portray to the public.   
  
Harry and the rest of the Weasley family had frowned upon Ron getting the large, one bedroom flat, advising him to spend his money on something less pretentious and pricey. But the redhead had been determined on getting the 125th floor penthouse. He even went to great lengths to find a designer to help him decorate the place, surely in an attempt to impress his snooty neighbors, who were all old-money types like the Chang family.   
  
Everything to the marble bar that was littered with martini glasses told visitors that a globe trotting young man lived in the place. The only traces of Ron's true personality could be seen in the boxes of takeaway containers that were in the corner of the room and the large silver pole that hung from the ceiling to the floor. Harry closed his eyes, as he remembered the night of Ron's house warming party, when most of the Cannons players were gathered around that pole, their eyes glued to the blonde, who did tricks on the instrument that defined gravity.   
  
The hooting and hollering that most of the men made when the young lady sat in Harry's lap, swiveling her hips against his body still echoed in his mind. That had been an embarrassing episode for him to say the least. He had to later take a shower in Ron's bathroom to get the girl's body glitter off his skin before he went back home to his fiancée.   
  
Harry glanced at the balcony that held terrific views of the city below. He remembered sitting out there on lounge chairs with Ron the night he had purchased the flat. Everything had been clear cut then, as Harry had his life planned out so perfectly: he would be marrying Cho and he and Hermione would continue to be friends. But now everything had gone pear-shaped as he no longer had Cho and his friendship with Hermione was in question due to that afternoon's upsetting discussion with her.  
  
"I'll tell Ron that you're here," said Neville, "and that he should hurry up."  
  
"Don't worry about it," Harry said casually, as he sat down on the couch. Being at Ron's place put him at ease, as he never felt he had to pretend to be anything other than himself. He would often escape his own house and run to the flat on days he wanted to get away from Cho and the chaos of planning the wedding of the century. A smile crept to his lips, as he thought back to the night he and Ron had their chat.   
  
Their bellies filled with the lamp kebabs they had devoured earlier, the two men lay on the floor, talking about their future. Ron had truly opened up to him then, sharing how he had hopes of getting married one day and having a family of his own. The news didn't take Harry by surprise as he already knew that family was a big part of Ron's life, despite the public persona of him being a devout bachelor. Ron went on to disclose how he wanted to marry one of the girls who worked in The Witches' Brew. He had apparently fallen for a bar-maid; the same young woman he would usually spend the entire night talking to instead of getting lap dances.   
  
"Why shouldn't I tell Ron to hurry up?" Neville asked.  
  
"Because the wedding's off. Cho and I decided we didn't want to get married anymore."  
  
Neville stood in the middle of the room, staring down at Harry with some astonishment. He then sat in the chair next to the other man. He opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself before he could utter a word.   
  
Soon, both men's head swiveled to the hallway, as they heard a loud rustling. Then Ron walked into the room wearing a long velvety patchwork cloak, and a bright blue suit, with a blue fedora styled hat pulled down on one side of his face. "How do I look?" he asked, twirling around in the middle of the room.  
  
Harry narrowed his brows as the multitude of bright colors whizzed before him, overwhelming his senses. He then looked away in horror when he saw the ivory cane that Ron held in his hand.  
  
Ron suddenly stopped in mid-twirl and glanced at his friend. "Harry, what are you doing here? You probably couldn't wait to see my outfit, huh?" He then moved closer to the seated young man, to give him a closer view of the colorful prism that was his attire. "Go ahead," Ron said, leaning close to Harry, "touch my cloak. It's real mink."  
  
Harry hid his smile the best he could and reached out his hand to touch the animal skin.   
  
"Isn't that the softest thing you've ever touched?" asked Ron.   
  
Harry nodded his head. However, he had touched fur before, as Cho owned a closet full of mink coats of varying lengths. A very memorable sexual experience between them involved one of the coats. They had spent the first night together at Harry's mansion on the living room floor near the roaring fireplace, making love under one of her coats.  
  
"It was made by some world famous fashion designer," continued Ron, as he glanced down at his outfit, looking pleased with himself.  
  
"You look good," said Harry. Although he had to admit that his friend looked a mess, he couldn't bring himself to burst the happiness that was so apparent on the other man's face. He then began to laugh, as he imagined the expression everyone else at the wedding would have had on his or her face when Ron showed up.   
  
Neville sat in silence, his hands blocking his face. After a few minutes, he finally muttered, "It suits you."  
  
"So," said Ron, "are we going to leave together?"  
  
Harry shook his head. "No. We're not going anywhere because there is no wedding. We cancelled it."  
  
"Cancelled it? That's a joke right?" Just then a letter flew in from underneath the front door and hit Ron on the face. He picked up the envelope and read the slip of paper that was inside. "We regret to inform you that the wedding between Ms. Cho Jane Chang and Mr. Harry James Potter has been cancelled irrevocably." He then put the letter on the table and glanced at Harry. But he didn't say another word.  
  
Ron walked to his bar and straddled on of the stools. He took out a glass from the overhead cabinet and poured himself a drink. "So, what happened with you guys?" he asked. "I thought you were the quintessential loving couple."  
  
Something in his voice made Harry cringe, as he wondered if the other man was being sarcastic. But Ron's eyes loomed with genuine curiosity, which prompted him to speak. "We decided to call it quits because..." Harry hesitated as he glanced over at Neville, who was now leaning forward in his chair to hear the news. "We decided we were too young."  
  
Ron turned his head to the side and snorted.   
  
Harry then sank back into the plush sofa and remained quiet for several minutes. A looming hush grew over the three men, only interrupted occasionally by Ron taking loud slurps of his drink. There was more Harry wanted to say right then about his ordeal with Cho, but didn't want to draw Neville into his private affairs. He knew the other man was trustworthy and was not one to spread rumors, but he felt uncomfortable revealing too much about his life to others.   
  
But Neville was an intuitive man, who could often sense when he had outworn his welcome. "I think I'll get going," he said as he got up from his chair and picked up his jacket. "Padma should have heard the news by now. I think she's probably over at my house, waiting for me to take her out to dinner."   
  
"By the way," Ron called out, "thanks for cleaning up. The place looks really nice."  
  
Neville made a face and headed out the door, so he could disapparate in the hall.   
  
"You made him clean your place?" Harry asked.  
  
"I didn't make him do anything. He volunteered." Ron got off of the stool and began walking around the spotless room, probably inspecting the job that his servant had done with a pleased grin on his face. "He's really good at this stuff. And he didn't even use magic to straighten things up either. My mum would have like to have him live at our place when I was growing up. Would have saved her a lot of time picking up after us."   
  
"Why don't you just get a cleaner? You can afford that now."  
  
"I know I can afford it, but I want to save my money for some important things."  
  
Harry sat up. That was the first time his friend had ever used the word 'save' in his presence. Ever since his contract deal with the Cannons, Ron had been a frequent visitor to all the shops in Hogsmeade, and running up tabs in all the taverns and men's clubs. Harry at one point thought his friend would spend all his money before the Quidditch season even started, especially when he would go into pubs and buy all the customers a round of drinks.   
  
"I have something big in the works," Ron continued. He brought the glass to his lips again and took a long sip, all the while glancing at Harry with a cheeky expression glowing in his eyes.   
  
Harry watched in annoyance as Ron began to smack his lips loudly. "Will you get on with it?"  
  
"Well, I'm saving up to buy my mum and dad a new place. I've spent far too much money on myself and need to show them a little gratitude for all the support they've given me over the years."  
  
"That's really nice of you."  
  
"Yeah, yeah." Ron sat down on the floor. "Now let's get back to the serious stuff. Why did you and Cho break it off?"  
  
Harry relaxed into the sofa and placed his hands behind his head. "She found out about me and Hermione."  
  
Ron, who was staring up at the ceiling admiring the crystals on his new chandelier, suddenly raised his head. "Found out about you and Hermione?" He then grew quiet, his eyes growing wide. "Were you guys having an affair or something?"  
  
"No. We never had an affair." Harry lowered his head, as he thought how he was now going to reveal the information to his friend for the first time ever. "I don't want you to get upset about what I'm about to tell you." He watched as Ron sat up on his elbows, giving him a hard look. The other man then got up from the floor, and sat down in a chair.   
  
Harry waited a minute before he began talking, as Ron seemed preoccupied with his outfit; he took great care in positioning his hat on his head and appeared to get sensual pleasure in running his hands up and down his fur coat. Harry allowed his friend this indulgence, knowing that he had lived a life of deprivation for far too long, as he had to sit back and watch others like Draco Malfoy flaunt their riches.   
  
Several years before, Ron had caught a glimpse of the large piles of gold galleons that littered Harry's vault, when the pair had gone to Gringotts to collect money for school supplies. Harry still remembered the expression of surprise and disappointment that rang out in Ron's face as he eyed the goldmine, and the way his friend jealously watched as he bought new robes and books while Molly purchased tattered and worn out supplies for him and his sister.  
  
"A couple years ago," Harry began when Ron had finally settled himself into the chair and was giving him his full attention, "Hermione and I had…." He paused and looked down at his hands. "We had an encounter."  
  
"An encounter? What's that supposed to mean?"  
  
"We had sex," Harry mumbled.  
  
"What?" Ron bolted from his chair and sat next to Harry on the couch. "When did this happen?"  
  
"It was during the fifth year. And it was only a one-time thing. We didn't say anything to you because we thought it would make you feel weird and change the dynamics of the group."   
  
Another reason Harry wanted to keep their liaison a secret was he assumed Ron had feelings for Hermione and thought the news would crush him. He had long noticed that their bickering with one another was laced with a lot of sexual tension, mostly on Ron's part. And his suspicions about Ron's feelings for Hermione were accurate, as he asked her out before the end of their sixth year.  
  
"I always sensed something between you guys," said Ron, "but I could never put my finger on it. You guys never really joked around with one another during out last years of school like before. It was weird."  
  
Harry observed Ron's face, trying to detect from the expression in his eyes if he was upset to hear the information. At first he saw nothing but deep concentration in his brown eyes, but soon Ron curled his lips into a grimace.  
  
"Are you mad at me?" Harry asked.  
  
"Yeah. A little. I would never have gotten together with her if I had known you guys slept together."  
  
"Why not? You're mad because I slept with her first?"  
  
Ron swiftly moved to the other end of the couch. "No, I'm not mad because you had sex with her before I did." He wrapped his coat completely around his body and stayed quiet for a long time. "Just for you information," he began again in a small voice, "Hermione and I never had sex. We came pretty close to it on many occasions, but never did anything. Every time we started kissing, I could tell she wasn't really into it. And we spent most of our time arguing anyway."  
  
Harry continued to stare at him, not able to believe – but nonetheless relieved – to hear the news. He surely thought they had slept together, as he sometimes witnessed them kissing in the common room, when they thought no one else was looking. He had never been comfortable with the idea of his friends dating, although he always put up a happy front when around them. That she was dating again made Harry feel as though Hermione had completely gotten over him, had forgotten their night together. But deep down, he guessed he felt some jealousy over Ron for having captured her heart.   
  
"If you had told me," said Ron, "I would have known right away what was bothering her during our relationship. It wasn't until she started talking about you every five minutes that I realized she was in love with you. Plus whenever she got mad at me, she always say 'I should have wound up with Harry.'" He then turned to Harry, giving him a hard look. "Cho found out you still love her, or did she catch you guys doing something?"  
  
"She found out we had feelings for one another. Plus, she saw things during our relationship that made her guess something had happened between Hermione and me." He sighed loudly and slouched down on the sofa. "I always thought I could move on and live a happy life with Cho, but I guess I couldn't." He turned his head to the side and glanced at Ron. "You're probably happy we're not getting married. I know you didn't really care for her."  
  
Ron shrugged his shoulders. "I don't really know how I feel about her. I mean, at first I liked her because she seemed like the kind of girl I always envisioned you going out with: pretty, smart, rich. But once I got to know her, I began to feel differently about her." He then got up and went back to the bar to pour himself another drink. "I didn't grow fonder of her as I got to know her. She always had a way of looking at me that made me feel like….shit. And the smile that she always gave me, I knew it wasn't genuine. Sorta like when Draco used to smile at me at school. And the way she was always controlling you."   
  
Harry slowly pinned his arms to his chest, his face growing tense as he continued to hear his friend list Cho's faults and all the wrongs he witnessed in their relationship. Although Ron was not telling him something he did not already know for himself, if felt awkward to hear them from another person; it only reinforced his belief that he had chosen the wrong girl. Plus, it still hurt him to hear such harshness uttered about someone he still had feelings for.  
  
Ron stopped talking and dropped his head, as he swirled his drink around in his glass. "I'm sorry about that," he said. "I probably shouldn't have said all those things about her." He walked back to the couch and placed his hand on Harry's shoulder until the other man's arms fell back to his sides.  
  
They both remained quiet for some time, until Harry finally asked, "Do you think I'm a fool for getting engaged to her?"  
  
Ron waited a long while before answering. "No." He opened his mouth to say more, but hesitated. He finally put his glass on the table and glanced at his friend. "I don't want to say this, but...." He took another sip of his drink, which Harry assumed was giving him the courage he needed to continue. "I'm kinda glad," Ron continued, "you guys didn't go through with the ceremony." He scooted closer to his friend on the couch and lowered his voice to a whisper. "I was fearing that I wouldn't be able to see you anymore after you got married."  
  
"What are you talking about? We'd see each other out on the pitch nearly everyday."  
  
"I know that. But I feared we wouldn't be able to socialize or go out and have a drink with one another on our time offs. I was so worried you'd ignore me after games or practices and just run back home to Cho."  
  
Harry wanted so much to reassure Ron and himself that he would never have abandoned their friendship, but he could do no more than glance down at his hands. Remembering all the things Cho had said about the other man and his out of control behavior, Harry knew she would not have approved of them seeing one another. Although he clearly had a mind of his own and could be quite insistent on doing things his own way, he also tried to avoid conflict at all times; he wanted to have a peaceful family environment, like the one he never received from his own blood relatives. His time, he assumed, would mostly be spend with Oliver Wood or any of the other players on the Cannons that Cho approved of.   
  
"You don't have to worry about that now," said Harry. "I'm not going to let anyone else try to keep us apart anymore."  
  
Ron gave him a little smile and then looked straight ahead of him again. "What are you going to do now?"  
  
Harry slumped back on the sofa, sinking into the folds of the leather material. "I don't know. I guess I could go home, but your mother will probably still be there. I'm sure she'll be waiting up for me, just to make sure I'm all right."   
  
"You're more than welcomed to stay here if you want."  
  
"Thanks." Harry's head began to pound, as he thought of all the people he needed to see before the end of the day - a certain curly haired young woman in particular. But he found it hard to get up from that sofa. His day had been hectic and he needed some rest before he paid a visit to another person. 


	10. Motives

Chapter 10: Motives

Everyone had remained in the house long after Harry had departed; the abundant food and inviting atmosphere caused them all to make themselves at home. They sat at the large dining room table, filling themselves on the delicious meal Mrs. Weasley made and drank the champagne Harry had purchased for Bill and Charlie's extended visit. The two older Weasley siblings had taken off work to attend the wedding and were supposed to stay at Potter Manor while Harry was away on his honeymoon. But their mother, who thought it prudent that they leave the young man to himself, as he was still dealing with the trauma of the cancellation, quickly changed those plans.

After their meal, everyone clustered around Sirius, bombarding him with questions about his quick recovery. The twins, being the consummate businessmen and promoters that they were, shoved coupons for their store – despite the glares they received from their mother - into the hands of Dean, Seamus and Justin, and made the three young men promise to bring their family and friends to their establishment.

But now, only the Weasley family members remained in the house, as Dean and Justin had scurried off to enjoy the sinful delights the city could offer two young men with an endless supply of money. Seamus had other plans, as he was to venture to the Ministry on official business.

Molly was busy cleaning up the mess, saving Dobby - who had now made waiting on Sirius his sole responsibility - the trouble, when the doorbell rang. She opened the door and eyed the young woman, who was wearing a large black hat that obscured most of her face, standing before her. "Can I help you?"

"May I speak to Harry?" Cho asked. She had been standing in front of the door for what seemed like an eternity, debating whether to make her presence known. The sounds of laughter that drifted from inside the house had angered her somewhat, causing her to wonder if Harry was celebrating the cancellation of their marriage. But before Molly could answer her question, Cho's eyes suddenly darted to her right when she heard some noise coming from nearby bushes.

Mrs. Weasley glanced in the direction that the young woman's gaze was now fixed and eyed the small squirrel that scurried from underneath its hiding place. "Harry's not here dear. And I don't expect he'll be back anytime soon."

Cho looked down at her feet, mumbling to herself. She hadn't expected him to run to Hermione's house so quickly. In her heart, she had hoped he would pine over her for some time before showering his affections on another. She, of course, had not been able to deal with things as casually as she had hoped. The confidence she showed to Harry when he was at her house was a mere facade that hid her true emotions. Telling everyone the news and seeing the expressions on their faces - that of shock from her mother, disappointment from her father and joy from one of her bridesmaids – had been a lot harder than she led Harry and herself to believe.

"I was wondering," Cho said, "if I could leave this with you." She pulled out a small box from her pant pocket and handed it to Molly, before turning around and heading down the stairs.

"Ms. Chang," Molly called after her. "Why don't you come in for a while?"

Cho tilted her head to the side and stared at the other woman. Her initial reaction would have been to decline the invitation. She had often run into Molly and a number of her offspring in Diagon Alley, only to step into a shop to avoid talking to them. Thus, the notion of being alone with people she barely knew and ones she thought had a sour perspective of her – there was no doubt in her mind that Ron had told them horrific stories about her - made her feel uncomfortable. But she had no time to turn down the offer, as Molly had grabbed her by the arm and pulled her inside.

Cho reluctantly took off her hat, which she wore because it hid her appearance from certain news reporters who might be lurking in the bushes, ready to capture a snapshot or two of her for their article. Avoiding eye contact, she glanced at Molly and said, "I just stopped by to make arrangements to get my things and to drop off the engagement rin--"

She stopped talking when the chatter in the living room died down; the other guests were now aware of her presence. She met each gaze with her own, her eyes traveling from freckled face to freckled face until they landed on Ginny. The youngest Weasley was reclining in an armchair, a smug expression curled in the corner of her lips. Cho could have met that look of contempt with her own intense glare that would have put Ginny in her place. But she glanced away, as she was preoccupied with more important things.

"I have to get going," Cho mumbled. "Just tell Harry I'll call on him again some other time."

Molly placed her hand on Cho's shoulder, and prevented her from escaping. "You must be hungry. We have lots of food if you want anything."

Cho's eyes met Mrs. Weasley's for the first time. It was true she was famished. Although there had been plenty of food at her own house, she had doggedly refused to budge from her room and join her family and bridesmaids, who were in the ballroom enjoying the meal and festivities that her and Harry's reception offered. She closed her eyes, letting the aroma that wafted from the kitchen seduce her.

"I'll fix you up a large plate," said Molly.

"You don't have to bother. Harry and I aren't getting married, so you don't have to be nice to me. Plus, I'll just be in the way."

"Oh nonsense. I've always wanted to get to know you for a long time now. And just because you and Harry are no longer a couple doesn't mean I'm still not interested in you. And you won't be in the way."

Cho glanced in the living room once more, eyeing the way the twins alternated from whispering to one another and then looking at her. Ginny was still bestowing her with an unblinking stare. Cho grabbed her hat and placed it firmly on her head. "Thanks, but no thanks," she said to Molly, before walking out of the door.

* * *

Hermione had been at that kitchen table for nearly twenty minutes, her head lowered as she stared at the magazine article. She had read it several times already, her alert eyes scanning every word as her mind buzzed with doubts of the article's authenticity. She felt as though someone had read her innermost desires and printed out what she wanted more than anything in the world.

"Potter wedding called off," she read out loud, as if hearing herself saying those words made them appear more real.

"Transfiguration Today" normally would not have indulged on such a subject, as they depicted themselves as being a 'serious magazine' that did not deal with gossip and show business news; but Harry's celebrity was too great for even them to ignore. It had been surprising, to say the least, when her regular owl delivered the new issue to her house three days ahead of schedule. But she was more shocked when she glanced at the cover and saw a picture of Harry staring back at her. The magazine had used an old picture of him and Cho on the day they held the press conference to announce their engagement.

Since then, she remained in that kitchen, unable to draw her eyes away from the picture. Without knowing what propelled her to do so, she lifted her hand and brought it to Harry's image. Harry smiled sheepishly back at her. But the crinkle in the corner of his lips disappeared when Cho glanced his way. Cho then greeted Hermione with a cold stare.

Her eyes scanned the article for some explanation as to why they called off the wedding. But she saw nothing other than speculation from an 'unnamed source' who had been present when the former bride-to-be made the announcement. Hermione glanced at the picture of the woman with the blue circle blocking her face. Although the woman's curly blonde hair looked oddly familiar, she still couldn't come to a definite conclusion as to whether she was one of Cho's bridesmaids.

"All the guests," she read, "were shocked when they received news of the cancellation through owl post." Hermione sat back in her chair, and wondered why she didn't get word of the cancellation until now. But she knew Cho must have crossed out her name from the list of invitees the moment she got home from the restaurant.

She rolled up the publication and left it on her table, before walking into the living room. Sitting on the couch, her mind flooded with regret for refusing Harry's pleas to attend the wedding. The desire to be present at the gala had been very strong, although she tried to deny it. Even as Harry sat in her living room – she had sneaked her head out of her bedroom door several times to get a look at him – she wanted to wrap her arms around his body and tell him all was forgiven. But she had stopped herself from doing so; the anger and humiliation over that morning's conversation with Cho was still too fresh in her mind for her to forgive him so quickly.

But the task of hiding her excitement over the nuptials became more difficult when she heard her two roommates getting ready. Hearing their laughter through the thin walls almost caused her to venture to the closet to take out her own dress. The most difficult part came when Penelope and Hannah questioned her as to why she was not going to attend. Crawling into her bed and talking in a scratchy voice, Hermione pretended to be ill. But deep down, she knew they didn't believe her.

Left alone in the flat with only the sleepy cat to keep her company, Hermione engaged in activities she hoped would take her mind off the festivities that were occurring at Chang Manor. She guessed it would be an extraordinary event, as she had already heard stories of the twenty-four-piece orchestra that would be playing there from the numerous tabloid magazines she sometimes bought and read alone in her bedroom. She had to admit, it would have been exciting to be at Chang Manor during the celebration. Although she had been to Harry's home on several occasions and was taken aback by the estate's beauty, the Chang family's home possessed an Old World and gilded elegance she would like to have seen. She had often seen photographs in the Daily Prophet of balls the family held during the summer. She could never draw her eyes away from the images of people waltzing in the ballroom in their finest gowns.

Many emotions were running through her at that moment. She felt sad for Harry, whom she assumed was genuinely in love with Cho. And the thought of not being able to meet with former classmates one last time before they all scattered the globe in pursuit of their careers saddened her, as the reception would have been a Gryffindor reunion. And deep down – although she didn't want to admit it – she felt sorry for Cho.

Hermione could have done more at that time to keep from thinking about Harry - like prepare handouts for her students - but she stayed on the sofa. Her eyes were fixed on the door, as she had a strong inkling that he would visit her that night. But after thirty minutes, she grew weary and tired. As she drifted into a blissful five-minute nap, a sudden panic in her chest caused her eyes to snap open. She then watched as her cat scratched at the door.

* * *

Harry sat in the hall, feeling the awful repercussions of his celebrity. His attempt to walk around the city and enjoy the breeze of the cool evening air had gone awry when he passed a newsstand selling magazines and newspapers with his face on every cover. He was then accosted by a reporter, who chased him down several blocks.

He had left Ron at his flat, laying on the sofa in a half stupor. He rehearsed what he would say to Hermione, while his friend fell asleep. But after several minutes of sitting outside her flat with his head lowered, he began to lose his nerve.

He stood up and leaned against her door, and wondered what she could be doing inside. He then imagined her laboring over the course material, in an attempt to design a fun icebreaker for the students on the first day of school in two days. He brought his hand to his head, wondering if she would welcome his presence; he surely didn't want to upset her before she was to head off to school. But before he had time to consider leaving, the door swung open and he found himself staring into her eyes.

Harry watched her for several minutes. It seemed unclear whether she would welcome him inside. But her eyes were not filled with anger that would indicate she was still fuming over their previous discussion. There seemed to be sadness lingering in her gaze; but she looked away before he could detect even more of what she was feeling. Leaving the door open, she walked to the kitchen. Harry tentatively walked in, and closed the door behind him.

"I'll just put the kettle on for some tea," she said as she fumbled around the cabinets in search of a teapot. The fire blazing and the kettle put on the stove, she headed back to the living room and sat down on the sofa.

Harry remained by the door, watching her every move. "I see you're ready to go," he finally said.

"Yes, the day has finally come for me to head back to school. You'd think I wouldn't be in a hurry to go back there after just graduating." Her face lit up as she got up from the couch, and headed to where her trunk lay near the dining room table. "I just found where my bedroom will be. I'm in the Gryffindor Tower, near McGonagall." Her eyes gazed over the parchment she had received several weeks before that explained to her the sleeping arrangements and other details pertaining to being a professor. "And on the weekends, I get to go to Hogsmeade." The bright smile on her face was reminiscent of the one during their third year of school, when she prepared to leave for her first trip to the town.

"I have some fun things planned for the first day," she went on. "I really want to make it interesting for the students. I know it's not the same as when Lupin had us do battle with those Boggarts, but...oh well." She placed the parchment back in her bag. "Just two more hours and I'll be walking around those musty halls again."

Harry scrunched his face in confusion, as he looked down at his watch. It was seven at night. "If you're leaving tonight, won't you arrive at school in the early morning?"

"Well, there's a different train for teachers that only takes about an hour to get to school. The students take a longer voyage, so the house-elves and teaching staff have a chance to prepare for the banquet and sorting ceremony." She glanced over her shoulder, shooting him a delighted smile. "Isn't it great to be hearing all this inside information?"

Harry managed to smile. But that happiness was short-lived, as his eyes drifted to the kitchen table and landed on the magazine that had become unrolled.

Hermione's gaze also traveled to the publication, which she regretted not throwing away when she had the chance. Then, their gazes became locked on one another, as they grew quiet once more. From the way Hermione kept staring at him, he assumed she expected him to break down and start crying at any moment. But he was well past the point of having a mental breakdown and simply fell back into a chair.

He took a deep breath and sank into the cushy fabric, when he felt the warm touch of her fingers on the back of his neck. Although her fingers barely grazed his skin, Harry jumped none the less; he feared any fondling from her – whether little or great – would arouse him. But once he got used to the touch, he eased back into the seat, and allowed her hands complete reign over him.

Her expert hands moved from his neck to his shoulders, easing the tension that had developed in his body while he paced up and down the hall, his heart feeling as though it would jump from his chest.

The room was quiet for some time, only broken by the occasional meowing of Crookshanks, as he rubbed up against Hermione's legs, trying to steal some of the attention she was lavishing on Harry. But even he could not draw his master away from the task before her, as she stared down at Harry, her mind focused on relieving whatever stress he had.

Harry lowered his head, allowing her greater access to the nape of his neck. The tension that had filled his body was long gone, but he kept quiet, as he bask in her touch.

"I'm really sorry about everything," Hermione said, resting her hands placidly on his shoulders. "I didn't mean everything I said earlier to you. I was just..." She took a deep breath then and considered her words. 'Jealous' was on the tip of her tongue, but that would have been too much for her to utter. "I was just upset with you. I didn't care for the underhanded way the news was broken to me. I would have liked to hear it from you."

Harry's hand drifted to his shoulder, his fingers landing on hers. "I didn't kn--"

"You don't have to say anything," she interrupted. "I had a lot of time to think about it after Penny and Hannah left. And I realized I was just being selfish. This was your big day, and you didn't have to cater to anyone else's needs other than your own and Cho's. I shouldn't have given you all that attitude. I should have just accepted it."

Harry's fingers wrapped around her wrist, giving her it a light squeeze and signaling he was ready to speak. "I didn't know about your conversation with Cho. I didn't know she asked you not to stand next to me." He could hear Hermione let out a gasp, as she pulled her hands away from his shoulders - probably to place them over her mouth, he guessed.

She soon sat on the sofa and leaned forward in her seat, as not to miss a word he would say.

"When I came over here," Harry went on, "I didn't know what you were talking about. I only found out about it when I went to her house and we had an argument."

Hermione stayed quiet. Although she never wanted to believe Harry could do anything so cruel to her, she was extremely angered by what she thought was his lack of consideration. After she had banished him from her bedroom that afternoon, she fell back on her bed, swearing she would not communicate with him while at Hogwarts and would avoid him during her summer holidays. But now that she knew the truth, she felt a bit foolish.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I don't know why I'd think you would to that to me." Actually in the back of her mind, she knew what – or more accurately, who - would force Harry to exclude her from his wedding. They both knew. She tried to keep those thoughts to herself, but soon opened her mouth and blurted them out. "I believed you didn't want me at the wedding because I knew Cho wasn't too keen about me attending. I assumed you just went along it, because over the past couple of years the two of you had melded into one person: her."

She lowered her head the moment those words came out of her mouth. She didn't mean to sound vindictive or even escalate the hurt he must have been feeling, but she needed to say those things; they had been swimming in her head for some time, almost causing her to grab him on numerous occasions when she thought he was being too overly obedient to Cho's commands, and shake him until his dogged stubbornness re-appeared.

But the joy she imagined feeling when she finally gave him a piece of her mind was not there. She caught his gaze for a moment, before looking away and glancing at Crookshanks, who was now ignoring her due to the lack of attention he had gotten from her earlier. "But I would be the same way too," she uttered, "if I was in love with someone."

Harry leaned back into his chair. "No, you wouldn't. You had your own opinions even when you were with Krum." He then allowed his eyes to wash over her face, detecting every expression that flickered in her eyes. "You don't have to feel bad about what you said. Ron pretty much told me the same thing when I went over to his place. I know that it seems as though I allowed her to lead me around, but I haven't completely lost my identity. I would never want to humiliate you. You should know how much you mean to me and how I wanted you there by my side."

He reached out his hand to her and stroked her knee. "I was really mad when I found out what she had done. I couldn't believe it when she told me. But in the end, I guess she felt threatened by you."

Hermione lifted her head and raised her brows, as she was curious to hear how it was possible that she could threaten a seemingly self-assured woman like Cho. She always remembered seeing the other woman walking in the Hogwarts halls, exuding a glow of confidence while surrounded by her throng of friends.

"She knew something had happened between us," said Harry.

Hermione pushed his hand away from her knee. "I swear to God, I never said a word to her." She had indeed kept the truth about what happened between them to herself for all those years. There had been times when she had wanted to tell Cho – especially when the other woman was being particularly smug and needed to be brought down to earth – but she always kept her mouth shut. The only people who were even aware of her feelings for Harry were Penelope and Ron.

"She guessed it," Harry finally said. "And then today I revealed to her that we slept together once. I just couldn't keep it from her any longer. And that's when we started fighting. She started throwing stuff. She even hit me." His hand flittered to his cheek, as he recalled the unexpected blow.

"So, you guys broke it off just because you told her we once had a fling?"

Harry gave her a hard look when he heard the casual way she described their one night together. He kept a steady gaze on her while he tried to determine if she purposely tried to sound dispassionate.

"No," he replied, "it wasn't all because of our…" He hesitated, as he wanted to find a better word to describe their encounter. But he finally gave up and said, "Fling. There was much more to it than that. It was an accumulation of things she had seen over the years. The way we always acted around each other."

"The way we acted? But we never did anything wrong during all these years." Hermione then thought back to what she could have done to raise Cho's suspicions about her true feelings for Harry. She had tried to project an air of coolness whenever she was around him, but she guessed her attraction to him was clearly visible. "I didn't mean to do anything to jeopardize your relationship with her." She glanced down at her hands and lowered her voice. "I know that I never could keep my interest in you from showing. But whatever I did to anger her, it wasn't intentional."

Harry's hand found its way to her face. He touched her chin, gently trying to encourage her to lift her head and make eye contact with him. "You don't have to apologize for anything. I guess it was for the best that she and I broke it off. Things would have been disastrous in the long run anyways."

He got up from his seat and sat next to her, all the while never losing contact with her face. After a while, with the help of the gentle prodding of his fingers, Hermione eventually glanced up at him. He then began to talk once more. "I'm the one who should be apologizing to you," he said. "I'm sorry for all the things I've done to you all these years. I guess I never realized the kind of heartache you must have been feeling."

"Harry, you didn't do anything--"

"Yes I did. I was a coward for all these years. You were right about me when you said I was living a lie, because I was."

Hermione shook her head. "I was just mad at you, that's all. I was the one who was living in the past. It's just that everything hit me last night, and I finally realized you were really getting married. I just didn't want to give you up. But that was my problem, not yours. I'm the one with all the excess--"

Harry placed his hand on her cheek, his fingers slowly running down to her collarbone. "Cho and I didn't break up because of anything you did. It was all me. We broke up because of me." He grasped her shoulder when he saw that she was about to say something. "All of this mess was my doing. Two great women are unhappy right now because of my own fears. I've created everything." He released her shoulder and let his hand fall down to her lap, where his fingers curled around hers. "For the past two years, I have been lying to myself about how I feel about you."

Hermione's eyes swiftly flittered to his face, her gaze meeting his.

"I know what I said to you last night," he continued. "I tried to pretend things between you and I were casual."

"You don't have to say anything to try to make me feel better." However, the expression in her eyes betrayed her words, as they appeared to beg and yearn for him to continue.

"I'm saying these things because they are the truth." His head lowered as he tried to find some courage to continue. After focusing on the pattern in her throw rug for some time, he made eye contact with her once more. "I still have feelings for you. I never lost them one bit, even when I was with Cho. I loved Cho, I really did. But my strongest feelings were always reserved for you. Cho knew this as well. That's why she wanted to keep you from the ceremony and was a bit distant with you over the years. That's the reason we called off the wedding."

He felt Hermione's fingers squeeze around his own; she must have appreciated what he was saying, he thought. "I've wanted to tell you all of this before," he continued, "but I just couldn't. I tried to pretend you didn't affect me, but I was wrong. I couldn't think of anything else but you. That's why it became so hard for me to be around you at school."

He then recalled those moments of uneasiness when he sat next to her in class, and would suddenly be overcome with the desire to bring his hand to her face and gently brush back the hair from her eyes.

"You don't know," he went on, "the kind of hell I was in when I saw you and Ron walking around school holding hands. I had to force myself to be happy for you and him, but I hated every minute of it. And when you started dating Krum, that was...unbearable." Although Harry liked the Bulgarian man and would often seek out his advice on Quidditch, he still couldn't keep from looking away in disgust whenever Krum would place a large hand on Hermione's knee.

"But I thought," she interjected, "you were so in love with Cho. Isn't that what you kept telling me last night?"

The tone in her voice sounded bitter. But he deserved it, he thought. "I was lying to you and myself." Seeing that she still wasn't entirely convinced, he knew he finally had to utter those three words she had been longing to hear him say for all those years. "I love you. I always have."

Hermione's eyes grew wide with intensity.

Harry held his breath as he awaited her reply. But she continued to stare at him in silence. After several minutes, he was unable to keep his expressions neutral, and soon his annoyance over her lack of response was clearly evident on his face. In his dreams, he always imagined her running into his arms and embracing him. But he knew that scene would never happen, as there had been too many complications and bad feelings between them over the years. However, he never expected her to greet his declaration of love in such a detached manner.

But before he could utter another word, she placed her hands over her face and lowered her head. She then began to cry. Harry sat stunned and motionless as he watched her body shake. He eventually brought his hand to her back, in an attempt to console her. "Herm," he said, "why are you so upset?"

She didn't answer him immediately, but in due time lifted her head and glanced at him. "Do you know what you're doing to me right now? I don't think I can take anymore of this."

"What am I doing to you?"

"You're always playing these games with me. For two years you've kept me in limbo about how you feel about me. And now you finally decide to reveal your feelings?" She kept her reddening eyes on him. Harry could do no more than lower his head. But she prevented him from fleeing the intense glare of her eyes by placing her hand on his chin, and forcing him to look at her. "Do you know how long I've waited for you to say those words to me? I used to sit up late at night in my bed, hoping that one day you'd realize the obvious and say you loved me."

Harry's eyes stayed steady on the tear that trickled down her face, leaving a wet streak on that smooth skin and landing in her lap. But before he could wipe away the wetness on her face, she bolted from her seat. She headed to the dining room, and placed her hands on the large table, which she and her roommates never ate off of. She then allowed the tears to fall on the tabletop, watching as they formed a myriad of small puddles on the surface.

"Do you see what you've reduced me to?" she asked. She brought her hand to her face and wiped her cheeks. "I used to watch girls at school cry and become hysterical about some boy, and I swore to myself I would never act that way. But look at me now."

Harry crept behind her, debating whether to touch her or keep his distance. But he let his instincts get the better of him and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. However, Hermione did not meet his embrace with happiness, and swiftly moved away.

She then folded her arms across her chest and stared at him. "Is this for real or are you just messing me about? Because if you are, I'll--"

"I'm not messing with you. I really love you."

She dropped her head once more, but did not proceed to cry like last time. After a few minutes of staring at her feet, she sat down on one of the chairs and glanced up at him.

His eyes wandered from the hard expression on her face, to the furniture in the flat, as he waited for her to say something. But she would not utter a word. "Are you upset with me for saying those things?" he finally asked, as he was unable to decipher the look that was now evident in her eyes.

"I'm not upset. I'm just wondering what your motives are?"

Harry also took a seat at the table. "I don't have any motives. I just wanted to let you know how I feel."

"Harry you had to have a reason for revealing all of this to me. And I'm starting to think I know what it is. You've lost Cho and now you think you can find your way into my bed by telling me you love me. If you think I'm going to jump into your arms, you've got another thing coming."

"What?" He leaned forward in his chair, greeting her eyes with a bewildered expression. "That was not my intention at all. I don't have some contrived reason for saying this stuff to you. I just wanted to tell you how I feel." His hand traveled along the surface of the table in pursuit of hers. But before he could come into contact with her skin, her fingers recoiled and she pulled her hand away.

Over the next several minutes, he tried to maintain eye contact with her, but she glanced away. When he finally did catch her gaze, which caused his heart to flutter momentarily with excitement, he was met by the cold expression in her eyes.

"Hermione," he finally said, "I just wanted you to go off to school with the knowledge that you were and are loved. I'm not seeking anything else from you." He got up from his seat and took the chair next to her. After making sure that her wand was nowhere in sight, his hand tentatively made its way to her thigh. As his fingers landed on her leg, he prayed that she would not push him away, or do anything else to physically harm him. "I never meant to play with your emotions. I should have said all of this to you years ago, but I was..." He lowered his head and dropped his gaze to the floor. "I was scared. But what I feel for you is genuine."

He gathered enough courage in his body to grab her hand. "I'm not saying all of this to you because I feel lonely, or want a companion. I just thought it was about time I acted like a man and told you the truth. And I don't expect you to return my affections." His eyes flickered to the living room, as a sudden rush of emotion now overtook him. "I can't believe how badly I messed things up between us. We could have been happy together. Today could have been our wedding day." He let go of her hand and brought his fingers to his face. He then squeezed his eyes shut.

It took him a few minutes before he was able to regain control of his emotions. He glanced at her face. The expression in her eyes still remained distant; his words had obviously done nothing to assuage her suspicions.

Harry remained in his seat for a while longer, hoping she would eventually say something to him. But after enduring the eerie silence for longer than he had hoped, he accepted defeat and got to his feet. "I'll leave you now," he said in a low voice. "And I hope you keep in touch with me while you're away at school." His hand landed on her shoulder, as he gave it a gentle squeeze.

As he walked to the door, with his shoulders hunched over and head lowered, he was saddened that he was unable to make things right with her after all those years. But he couldn't blame her for being stubborn and not allowing him to win her over so easily. He knew those years of having to watch him with Cho and listen to him deny his feelings for her had taken its toll. "Maybe with time," he thought to himself, "she will eventually learn to trust me again." But hearing those words echo in his head only saddened his spirits even more.

He prepared to apparate home - where he would storm into his bedroom and sleep away that nightmarish day - when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

"I don't want you to leave like this," she said.

Harry closed his eyes; he had been hoping she would say something of that sort to him. He turned around and met her gaze.

"I'm not angry with you," she whispered. "It's just that...I'm frightened." She closed her eyes and breathed heavily. "I don't want to get hurt anymore. I don't want you to say you love and care about me and then later on change your mind. These last couple of years have been a night--" She dropped her head and brought her hands over her face.

As her sobs reached his ears, Harry wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his body.

"You have no idea," she said as she buried her face into his chest, "what I've been through. It killed me when you didn't answer me when I asked if you loved me." She stopped talking, as her sobbing grew more intense, causing Harry to wrap his arms tighter around her quivering body. "And seeing you with Cho made me insane. I not only had to see you guys around town together, but read about you two in the papers."

"I'm sorry," Harry was able to say, as he brought his hand to her head, his fingers making their way through her thick locks. He held her for several more minutes until her sadness subsided, and her body stopped heaving.

When she was finally calm, she glanced up at him. "I don't want you to hurt me anymore, please."

"I won't. I promise." He lowered his head then and placed his lips on hers. But this was not an urgent or deep kiss, but a reassuring and delicate embrace. He let a moan waft from his lips as he felt her mouth against his. He then hugged her tightly, almost lifting her up from the floor. "I'm so sorry for everything I've done to you," he whispered into her ear, his lips moving against her earlobe. "I never wanted to cause you any pain. I swear I'll make it up to you, if you let me."

"But how are we going to go about this? We can't just suddenly go back to the intensity we had on that night. Too much has happened between us."

His hand ran down from her hair to her face, fingering the rouged skin of her cheek. "I'm not asking much from you. I really didn't intend on us getting back into a full-fledged relationship. I just thought we could start slow, take it from the beginning, and get to know one another again. Maybe we can start off by going to dinner in Hogsmeade sometime. Or you could come over to my house and I'll cook for you. Would that be all right?"

Hermione didn't make a reply. But she didn't need to nod or utter a word as the expression in the depths of her eyes said it all: she was in absolute agreement with him. "Why did you wait so long to say all of this to me?" she finally asked. Her hand drifted to his waist, her fingers traveling underneath his shirt and pinching his skin. "I would have liked to hear this a couple of years ago."

"I'm sorry. But I promise to say it more to you, if you give me another chance."

Her arms tightened around his body, giving him the answer he needed. Harry lowered his head, taking deep breaths of the perfume that had brought about the feverish desire within him the night before. His mouth hovered just above hers, as he stared into her eyes, determining whether she wanted the kiss. Her darken pupils told him she wanted and needed it, and he proceeded to meet her lips. The embrace started slowly like the previous one, but became more intense with time. They stayed in that position for longer than any of them could even calculate, as their mouths became well acquainted with one another again.

Hermione never did make the eight o'clock train. Lying on her bed with him, she found herself unable to move from her comfortable position. They took that opportunity to drink in the delight of being with one another again. Their eyes locked on the other's face, as they savored the feel of each other's skin underneath their fingertips, and whispered endearments into each other's ear that they had wanted to say for the past couple of years. As the moon illuminated their bodies with a silvery glow, Harry breathed in the scent of her hair, inhaling enough as to lull him over during her absence.

* * *

Harry got home late that night. He had helped Hermione get to the train station at midnight and had stayed at that platform, waving to her until the train was out of sight. His journey home had been slow, as he walked around London, savoring the intoxicating taste of her mouth that still lingered on his lips. He eventually apparated in the hall of his home, humming to himself as his body still tingled from his earlier embraces with her. On the way to his bedroom, he saw a figure sitting on the couch, staring out the large windows.

He walked to where the other man was sitting and sat beside him. "You didn't have to wait up for me," he said. "I know you must be exhausted." Harry placed his hand on his godfather's arm, prepared to help him into one of the spare bedrooms.

"I feel fine," said Sirius. "I just want to sit here with you for a while. I have a lot of things I wanted to talk to you about, most importantly the cancellation. I was really disturbed when I got the let--" Sirius glanced at him, eyeing the crooked grin that was permanently fixed on the corner of his lips. "You seem to be in good spirits. Did you and Cho make up?"

Harry lowered his head, as he was almost ashamed of the delight he was feeling just then. "We didn't make up," he mumbled. He then glanced at the other man, wondering if he should reveal all to him. "I was in love with Hermione," he finally said after a long pause. "That's why Cho and I broke up." His eyes then flittered to Sirius' face, watching for any sign of a reaction.

Sirius' expression remained calm, as he stared towards the garden. But then something twinkled in those dark eyes, which caused his lips to curl upwards. "I guess you went over to Hermione's and had a successful 'conversation' with her."

Harry brought his hand to his face, trying to hide his reddening cheeks.

"I'm glad you followed your heart," said Sirius as he placed his hand on Harry's shoulder, and pulled him close. "Plus, I always liked Hermione. Very nice young lady. Cho was nice too, but…" He glanced down at Harry. "Anyway, I think you'll be happy with Hermione." They sat in silence, enjoying the glorious view of the lake, when Sirius added, "That reminds me, Cho brought back the engagement ring. It's on your dresser."

Harry sighed deeply. He knew the ring was something she treasured. He would surely send it back to her, for he had no use for it anymore. His hand glided down to his trouser pocket as he fingered the two wedding rings that lay inside; he would not have need for such rings for another couple of years. And when he did think of getting marriage again, he thought, it would be to the right girl.

* * *

The rain pelted down on Harry, causing his hair to plaster against his face and making visibility almost impossible. But he never let the thundering shower force him to forget his objective: getting the snitch. The game was a difficult one, as the Bats had proved to be a far more formidable team than anyone on the Cannons had expected. But the intense pace of the game and close score had brought the crowd into a frenzy; they were surely enjoying the hard fought match, which differed so much from the one-sided and quick ones that the first place Cannons always played - thanks to Harry's efforts in always getting the golden snitch so early in the game. But that golden prize was not so easy to catch on that night.

Harry leaned forward on his broom, his eyes darting left to right. Glancing over his shoulder, he could see Cho doing the same thing. But she stopped looking for the snitch just then and met his gaze, giving him a hard stare. She had done that a lot during the match, sometimes following the glares with a forceful bump of her broom against his. But he expected just as much.

She had been able to force Malfoy off the team and had now established herself as a top seeker. Draco had, of course, been picked up by another organization, which the Cannons faced the week before. The game, as usual, did not last long, as the struggling Arrows and their less than talented seeker did not put up much of a fight.

Just before him, past Ron, Harry saw a glint of gold. In that instant, he lunged forward, causing his broom to go whizzing through the air. Ron ducked, as his friend flew surprisingly close to his head. Despite the bombardment of the rain, Harry cut through the night sky with little effort, followed closely by a certain young lady. They were soon flying side by side with one another, both their determined eyes set on the snitch. The noise from the crowd had now reached a crescendo, as everyone wondered if their invincible Harry Potter would finally be beaten to the snitch for the first time in his career. Harry glanced at Cho for a moment, as he was surprised she was even daring to keep up with him. She met his glance with her own glare, as if saying, "I'm just as good as you."

He had to admit, she had an easy and relaxed way of flying - unlike Malfoy, who looked as though he was in pain as he whizzed through the air. But she was still not on his level, no matter how much she tried; Harry still possessed that extra oomph that surpassed all others. And he showed this by speeding ahead of her. Reaching out his hand, he finally clasped his fingers around that golden snitch.

The crowd erupted even more so than before when Harry lifted his hand in the air, displaying the snitch for all to see. To his left, he saw the disgusted look that was now on Cho's face. The grimace would have alarmed him before, but now he paid little attention to it. His life was going according to plan; his team was unbeatable and his budding relationship with Hermione was escalating into much more. He was scheduled to see her that following weekend, for their weekly excursion to Hogsmeade. Soon, he could no longer see Cho, as he was suddenly enveloped by his teammates who rushed him from all directions, their hands on his back or head as they congratulated him.

The End.


End file.
